Ugly
by JohnPaulGeorgeandRingo
Summary: A younger, darker Rogue has found ways to deal with the pain. Many at the mansion don't agree with her methods though. And it's even harder to continue rebelling against life when Logan returns. Rated as such for drug use and addiction.
1. Help

_**I**_ _**just had to revise this chapter because it was driving me mad...**_

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**Help!**

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(Rogue's POV)

Its been three weeks since the events at Alcatraz and I couldn't be happier. Honestly, I was rather worried about the welcome home I'd receive but I made the best decision of my life taking the cure and ridding my skin of its curse. Bobby has been so much more attentive and has even stopped the embarrassing public flirting with Kitty.

I'm so content with my life that I'm sorely tempted to scream, "I'm normal!" from the rooftops for all to hear. I want to show as much skin as possible, well without running the risk of being arrested for indecent exposure, buy a hundred bikinis, visit the beach, sunbathe topless, shop till I drop for brand spanking new revealing clothes and most of all I want to get closer to Bobby.

I mean real close, as close as lovers could be. I probably shouldn't be telling you this but, oh my God I can't contain myself. It's finally going to happen tonight, I've been smiling so much my face is starting to ache. Storm even asked me this morning at breakfast if I was feeling okay. I guess a smiling and blissfully happy Rogue isn't seen as a regular occurrence in the mansion, not that my face is fixed in a permanent scowl of course.

Not everyone is on cloud nine though, which brings me to Logan's hasty departure yesterday. When I found out that he packed up his shit and left on his bike without a word to anyone, you could say I was upset at first. We had a deal, if he ever started to feel like a caged animal and needed to take off for a break he'd always say goodbye to me. I understand that Logan's not used to having to answer to anybody, but a 'See you later, Kid' would have sufficed. Hell, I would have taken a hastily scribbled note just so I'd know that he'd actually come back. After all there's nothing left for him here now, Jean's gone.

What Logan forgets is that I know him better than he probably knows himself, he was after all rattling around in my head for a number of years. He's gone off to do his usual Grrr-I'm-Wolverine-the-bad-ass-mother-fuckin'-cage-fighter routine and I can't blame him.

He's spent the past three weeks locked in his room mourning Jean's death and I've been a crappy friend. When he was in need where was I? Out shopping with Jubilee or making out with my horny boyfriend.

I just hope he realises how much people care for him here, he's found his family and if he doesn't come back, I'll hunt down that ass of his and let him have it. In other words 'hell hath no fury than a woman scorned'

Yeah I love the big lug, but no I don't want to get in his pants thank you very much. Logan is the closest thing I have to family. I just hope he comes back soon, it won't be the same around here without the growling, those sweet threats he makes and the smell of his cigar smoke, he makes me feel safe.

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_**Four months later...**_

Standing outside the mansion cigar in hand, he couldn't quite believe he had returned. He'd never been one for all this sentimental crap before. No, he was the Wolverine, a natural loner to the day he died but here he was.

Why he'd returned he had no idea, Storm could handle the school on her own... Hell she had the patience of a saint and then some. The X-Men didn't need him and there was no Magneto or Brotherhood to pose a threat any longer. No sign of a potentially catastrophic situation that he was aware of, so why was he here?

It was the Kid, for the first time he could remember he actually cared for the well being of someone else other then himself. Yeah, he had probably loved Jean but she was different. Marie was his responsibility, he had promised to take care of her and he'd done a rather lousy job of it so far. He'd make it up to her though, he would stick around and prove that he could be the good guy, even if Jean wasn't around to see it. He would keep his promise if it killed him.

Snuffing the remainder of his cigar out on his inner palm with a painful hiss, he sighed deeply. He guessed it was time to show his face.

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Welcome back, Logan." Storm greeted him with a warm embrace and a tender smile.

"Hey, 'Ro." He returned the hug although he was somewhat surprised at her seemingly sunny disposition because she looked exhausted. The dark rings under her eyes were certainly a new addition, yet not an improvement.

"So, are you back for good this time?"

"Yeah"

"No more taking off?" She enquired with a hint of amusement at Logan's obvious discomfort.

"No" He grunted whilst shuffling his feet and readjusting his back pack.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. What's with the twenty questions?" He really didn't mean to growl, but Christ was he tired.

"Well, I need your help with something..."

Logan snorted with a dose of uncharacteristic humour.

"I ain't babysittin' again, do you remember what happened last time around?" He grunted with a shake of his head.

How could Storm forget, they all know how much Stryker's invasion on the mansion cost them. Losing three members of your family wasn't easy to gloss over.

It was the beginning of the end of an era. They lost Jean days later, then Scott and the Professor less than two years after. Two key X-men and the founder of the school, how could any one forget?

Storm sighed tiredly, it was time to work on Logan's ego. All men had egos, it just took a little time to know what buttons to push and the Wolverine was no different. It was time to play the damsel in distress card.

"Look, I really do need your help with this Logan, just hear me out that's all I ask."

His eyes were darting everywhere other than Storm's face and she knew the time had come to stroke his ego.

"I could really use your expertise in these matters. I believe you possess many attributes that will help me immensely in the running of this school, and I don't just mean teaching those fantastic classes of yours."

Now it was Logan's turn to sigh deeply, he always was a sucker for a pretty woman.

"Fine"

"Let's go to the office then, we have lots to discuss."

Trailing behind him, Storm smirked to herself, he really wasn't half as difficult as he made out, Wolverine was an absolute pussy cat in fact.

Sitting in the late Professors office, Storm related the changes that had occurred since Logan's abrupt departure. Leaving for four months even if you did return eventually did not mean that life just stood perfectly still. Anything and everything can change in a matter of moments, he didn't need to be told that.

"So Worthington's joined us?" He asked her, sitting in a rather uncomfortable seat with his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

"Yes, Warren's been covering your classes alongside Hank. They've both been an absolute God send. Kurt's been a terrific help to of course and Remy also agreed to teach a few classes."

"The Cajun, he's still here? Thought he'd be long gone by now."

"Logan, Remy's a good friend of mine. He's really knuckled down and he's been here when I've needed him. You two are just going to have to get along."

In response he put his hands up in mock defeat, he was more amused then anything. Ro sure seemed protective of the Cajun.

"Okay, okay, what's in it for him, though? You payin' him in gold bars, hookers and whiskey shots?" Logan quipped along with a raised eyebrow.

"Honestly, men, you're worse than some of the students. Let's just agree to disagree. I came across some of the Professors old papers the other day and it appears that before he passed away he was researching the benefits of a mentoring scheme."

"Mentoring scheme?" Logan looked positively puzzled.

"Yes, a mentoring scheme, one for the more troubled students of the school."

"Right, so what's this gotta do with me?"

"Well, I'm getting to that. There are two students that are currently on probation, they're really screaming out for guidance in their lives and they would be perfect for this."

Logan could obviously see where the conversation was headed because he groaned in frustration.

"Ro..."

Storm carried on regardless. "We have a new student who's already on their last warning, you may remember him; A Mr. John Allerdyce?"

"You mean that Pyro punk? Fuck Ro, what the hell were you thinkin'?"

"It's what the Professor would have done, Logan, you know that. Certain people deserve a second chance, he's young and I believe he can change. Now the mentoring..."

"Aw, hell no, I'd kill the little shit."

Smiling knowingly Ororo replied, "That's why Hank agreed to work with him."

"Good."

"That brings me to the next student, I've found her harder to place but I believe you're the right man for the job." The smile that was growing more defined on Storm's face was worrying him, he had a feeling he would not like whatever else she had to say.

"Her, how can she be worse than Pyro for Christ sake, who is she?"

"Logan do you have to repeat everything I say? Yes, her. Well, Rogue to be exact."

"The Kid!" He bellowed, looking outraged and slightly bewildered at the thought.

"Here take a look at this, it'll explain everything." Storm passed a folder to Logan across the ornate mahogany desk, hoping the information it held would pacify his growing agitation towards her.

"What the hell's this?"

"Her file."

Taking a casual glance through the folder earmarked 'Rogue' a thought occurred to Logan, "Is it supposed to be _this_ thick?"

"Shit" He hissed as he scrambled to pick up the fallen papers detailing Rogue's misdeeds.

"No, not exactly, she's been busy these past few month. In all honesty it's been one thing after another. We've all tried talking to her, but let's just say it didn't go down to well and I was forced to put her on probation." Recognising the look on Logan's face she hastily added, "Honestly, I've tried my best but she won't talk. I can't help her if I don't know what's bothering her."

"Oh, come on, 'Ro, I know the Kid's gotta mouth on her, but she ain't that bad." Logan had had enough run ins with Marie's mouth over the years, however she was never uncontrollable.

"Logan, how many of your classes has Rogue missed over these past few years?"

He shrugged as he contemplated the question " Uh, none, I guess."

"Exactly, since you left she's been attending only a handful of her danger room sessions. The ones she claims that don't clash with her social activities, skipping most of her other classes too. Add her bad attitude into the mix and well, it's hardly been a riot around here lately."

"Okay, I get it, I'll go yell at her. Just let me take a shower first." He grimaced, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't want you to shout at her, not if you can help it. Just go talk to her, be a mentor, she's respectful of you, she'll listen." Storm implored knowing fully well that Logan and Marie's arguments were legendary.

"Yeah, she'd better."

Logan strode impatiently out of the room muttering about meddling weather goddesses and stupid damn Kids.


	2. Smells like teen spirit

_**A quick thanks to Brit-Babe191 for the review. Yeah I admit it I'm English ;) and right back at you! Glad you like it, and I'm also wondering where this story is going to lead to, a road trip I hope.**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to the mess under my bed, I promise that one day in the near future I will get around to cleaning you up :)

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**Smells Like Teen Spirit**

"Where the hell are they?"

Okay, I know that me and Jubes aren't the tidiest of people, but when has the space underneath my bed become a dumping ground for all that's wrong with the world?

Science text books, a half eaten and slightly mildew cheese sandwich... Well I think it's cheese anyway, kind of hard to tell with the fungus and all. Age old gym shoes, a box of condoms... What the heck? Ah, that's where that top went and I haven't seen those jeans in ages. There's part of a history essay I never handed in, and where are they?

"Roguey, what you looking for Chica?"

"My boots, the leather ones." I say poking my head around the crap that's accumulating at the foot of my bed. Jesus, it's cramped under here and I'm reduced to crawling around in the dirt underneath my bed. I'll be showering continuously for the next week washing all the dust out of my hair.

"Which leather ones?" Jubilee asks as she flips through her Cosmo magazine.

Is she having me on?

Turning back to the task at hand, I begin rummaging again. Oh it's my green cloak, it's been a while my faithful friend, look at that stain though, that will never come out. More crap, I come across every present Bobby ever bought me, more half written essays, more books, a pair of boots but not the ones I'm looking for. Wow, I've never seen this top before, it doesn't leave a lot to the imagination. I'll wear it tomorrow, why the hell is there a snow globe under here?

"Jubes, how can you not remember those leather boots? You remember that day at the mall, we had a look around that posh shop, I swapped the price tags and got the boots for half the price? Then we helped ourselves to a few things from the drug store on the corner of Elm street? We had to run because we nearly got caught. You must remember the pink eyeliner I picked up, you said it made me look like I had conjunctivitis and then Bobby wouldn't come near me for days. We've got to do that again girl, well not the eyeliner part. How about next weekend?"

I'm surprised that Jubilee has been quiet for so long, it's not like her at all.

"Ah ha, found them!" Oh how I love the smell of leather, especially mind blowing expensive leather. A quick kiss to the boots and I attempt to scoot out from under my bed.

"Jubes, you up for it then?" Why isn't she answering, oh my God she hasn't died has she?

Someone clears their throat above me and boy does that sounds familiar. I smack my head pretty damn hard on the wooden bed frame and groan in complaint. "Shit" I cry rubbing my head, that will leave a mark.

"Jubilee, I hope you're catching a cold."

Please let that be Jubilee, I hope to God it's not..."Logan, how long have you been standing here, in my room uninvited?" He better not have heard me rambling on about my leather boots. I scan his face for any clues but he's not giving anything away. I bet this man is a great poker player.

"Long enough." And he settles himself down on my bed, arching an eyebrow at my dishevelled appearance and the mountain of crap by my bed.

"Where's Jubes?" I ask looking around for any sign of my best friend and she's nowhere to be seen.

"She left." Okay then, why is it always the short answers with this guy. He must have scared her again, she's terrified of him. I bet it only took one look and she scarpered out of here leaving me to ramble on like an idiot and quite possibly implicating myself in a number of petty crimes. I would not have been mentioning any of the above in Logan's presence for obvious reasons.

"So, how long have you been back, Wolvie?"

He scowls at the nickname, he absolutely hates it. He threatened to shred Jubilee's yellow Gucci bag into bite size chunks that he would then proceed to shove down her throat if she used it once more.

She slept with that bag for over two weeks in case he tried to follow through with his threat.

"Few hours, spent most of it in Ro's office."

Shit, I can see where this conversation is going.

"Well, it was nice of you to drop by Logan, but I've got to get ready. I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon." Hopefully not too soon I silently add. I stand up and attempt to shoo him out my room. It kind of makes me wish I had super strength so I could throw him out. Nope, he's not moving and he's still sitting on my bed.

"Not so fast Kid, you've got some explainin' to do."

Ah, I know that look it's the you-better-answer-me-damn-quick-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you type glare.

"Whatever do you mean?" He doesn't take to kindly to people who blatantly ignore his demands, to be honest he doesn't take too kindly to people in general and he's obviously not taking any of this to well, the whole growling thing is so last year.

"You can start by tellin' me why Ro's on my back about you, what the hell you've been doin' these past four months? What the fuck d'ya mean you've been helping yourself to shit at a drug store and where do you think you're goin'?"

Wow, I've never known Logan to say so much, he's usually a man of rather limited vocabulary mainly cuss words. Now where to start, I think I'm right in assuming that wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Nothing to do with me, I have no idea what you're trying to insinuate, I plead the fifth and I'm going on a date." I state in a rather blasé manner.

Maybe I said something wrong because he's snarling at me now.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Marie, but you're stoppin' this shit right now." He throws me a pointed look and continues, "And you ain't goin' on no date, you're stayin' here. You'd better be in the Danger room in an hour, you're gettin' a major work out. You've earned it, Kid, you've only got yourself to blame." He walks towards the door and pauses as he reaches for the handle "You better be on time, don't make me come find you, Cause' trust me, you won't like what happens."

And the door slams shut in my face. What the hell am I going to do now? Hmm, well I have two choices, a date or a killer Danger room session, which one would you choose?


	3. These days

_**Thanks to Sachertorte for reading... :)

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**These Days

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Casually walking towards the kitchen I'm now more than resigned to my fate, I'm going to miss my date tonight and I was actually looking forward to it, sort of.

A five star course at New York's most exclusive restaurant, Champagne, music and dancing...Pfttt...who am I kidding? He had probably planned a five dollar greasy feast at a grubby back street diner in some seedy part of town.

Now don't get it twisted, I haven't a conceited bone in my body but a girl likes to be swept off her feet once in a while. Wined, dined and treated like a princess, you get the picture.

I'm sure some of you out there are shaking your computer screens in frustration; demanding to know why I'd rather go out for a night on the town then spend time in close proximity with a sweaty, possibly shirtless Logan.

If that's the case then you've all been smoking crack. The girls around the mansion drool at his feet, even Storm gets all starry eyed around him. In fact some of the guys are unable to tear their eyes off of him in hero worship or because of some perverted sexual fantasy, I have no idea.

Yes I'm grateful that he saved my life, honestly I am. It's just sometimes I really can't help but think that maybe everyone would have been better off without me, the world would be a greater place, and my friends would be so much happier. I know what you're going to say, I'm my own worst enemy, live each day as it comes, but I carry these thoughts with me always...What the hell is wrong with me?

I wish I had died on that damn statue. I've been treated like a leaper since I returned from taking the cure. I'm some sort of plague on mutant kind apparently and wanting to be normal equals treason in the eyes of my so called friends.

As I reach the kitchen, I'm welcomed by the other outcast of mutant high, well they always say the unwanted should stick together.

"John" I greet.

"Rogue" He doesn't look up as he concentrates on buttering his slice of bread. I have never understood his taste in food. Who in their right mind would voluntarily eat meat paste sandwiches? Well, he did join Magneto, that in my book suggests he's as mad as a box of frogs.

"It's just Marie now," I remind him. "I'm not a mutant anymore"

I take a seat at the kitchen table and gaze out of the window. Maybe if I did take off, Logan wouldn't notice. No that's ridiculous of course he would, there will only be the two of us in the danger room.

"Oh yeah, you took the cure, didn't you?"

Here we go, someone else to tell me that I've made the biggest mistake of my life. "Look, if I wanted the opinion of a Jackass, trust me, you'd be first in line."

"I said I was sorry I left. If Bobby can forgive me..."

"Bobby is easily pacified, you only have to take a look at Kitty to know that."

No I'm not jealous. Okay, maybe I was, but that's totally in the past and anyway I'm allowed to make scathing comments, they started it. Oh God, how childish did that sound?

John chuckles and takes a large bite of his sandwich. Yuck, again with the meat paste.

"Fine, I'll make it up to you, meet me on the roof tonight. We're still friends aren't we?"

"Yeah, Johnny, we're still friends." I'm rather good at holding grudges but John's different. Me, him and Bobby, we had the best of times. "I've got to go, Danger Room session." I announce rather resentfully, standing to my feet and walking towards the door.

"Pissed Logan off, did you?"

"I may have done, yes. I'm happy that you find this so amusing, Pyro."

"Have fun, Rogue! Oh and don't forget ten o'clock sharp, I'll see you on the roof!"

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"You're early."

I don't know why he seems so surprised, I'm not always late. Okay, I am but it's a woman's prerogative to make an entrance and my hair takes forever to style, it's as stubborn as I am.

"Yep" I answer as I stride into the Danger Room along side him.

"Well, let's get this over with."

Hold on just one minute.

"Now don't strain yourself, Logan, I wouldn't want you to sound too enthusiastic. I never knew I was such a thorn in your side." I sneer placing my hands on my hips.

"Marie..." He warns with a growl. "I really don't want this turnin' into another argument."

"Why? You always seem to win them, usually by having the last word and storming off before I can respond." Most adults are completely clueless when it comes to speaking with 'the youth of today' as my old Grandpa used to say but Logan excels at it.

"Marie…" And that would be my second warning.

"Fine, you win." I ground out through clenched teeth. Oh, I'm a sullen one alright.

"So, you wanna talk now or after I kick your butt?"

What the hell! I don't want my butt kicked around this room by an adamantium boned foot. Especially when it's being wielded by an angry feral. The walls aren't even cushioned and my beautiful pale skin bruises easily.

"Uh, talk?"

"Yeah, Kid, talk." He sighs, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"I thought we came here to fight, Logan? Anyway we've never really talked… Wait a minute, Storm put you up to this, didn't she?" Yeah, this has all the signs of a put up job.

"Look, Storm's just worried about you and so am I. This ain't like you, you've changed."

Storm's worried about me? I'm sure she is, I've been causing absolute havoc around here these past few months (her words not mine) and Storm is concerned about my well being, yeah right, and I'm the Queen of England.

"What are you on about, I've changed? I am, who I am, and if you don't like it then you can take a hike!." Yes he can take a hike, a very long and treacherous hike and he can take Storm along for company. As well as the rest of the student body, maybe then I'd get some peace... Oh, Logan's talking.

"So how'd the Popsicle take it?"

"Take what?" What on God's green earth is this guy talking about now. Have you ever zoned out during a conversation and been left completely confused?

"Cancellin' your date, bet he ain't pleased with me."

Hasn't he been told yet? He's always the last to know, our Wolverine.

"Logan, I wasn't going on a date with Bobby. We...uh, broke up months ago."

Oh we broke up alright, actually he dumped my ass, for Kitty never the less. Then I hit him, I just couldn't help myself. You should have seen it, such a great right hook. All hell broke loose not long after, honestly he should have been ashamed airing our dirty laundry in public like that.

I was proud of myself and my behaviour that day. I stood up for what I believed in and decided from that day forward, I would never be truly humiliated to that extent ever again and I'd keep my heart under lock and key if I had to. I never paid much attention to all those broken heart stories before, but let me tell you now, they're all true.

"What'd he do?" Logan demands, his upper lip curling into a snarl. "Forget it, I'll just go kill the ice prick. Only tolerated him anyway."

I always feel a surge of love towards Logan when he gets angry on my behalf. Sometimes it's nice to know that at least one person is on my side and willing to maim, slice and gut a lying, cheating bastard on my command.

"No, it's okay, I sorted it."

"How?" Logan asks frowning at me.

"I gave him a black eye." I smile sadly, refusing to cry over the embarrassment and crushing humiliation again. Why are guys such bastards, even the young ones? Present company excluded of course.

Logan walks towards me wearing his trademark smirk and ruffles my hair

affectionately. "That's my girl. So who's the lucky fella?"

"A guy." I see _that _look in his eyes and understand it for what it is. He's being overprotective again. "And no, you can't meet him." I hastily add, waving my finger at him.

"Why not? Just wanna see he's treatin' you right."

Yeah, I'll bet. Threaten to gut him on the spot, growl out a list of rules and scare him shitless sounds more like the Logan I know.

"He is, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Logan nods and his eyes dart around the room. Why do I have a feeling this really is going to be a work out from hell and my butt is going to be bruise city.

"Still hate me?"

"I never hated you, Logan, was just pissed at you. I suppose I could do with some exercise anyway." I tell him whilst poking my rather flabby stomach.

He pulls me into a warm embrace and rests his chin on the top of my head, nestled amongst my messy hair. We stay like that for a few minutes as he inhales deeply, my scent most likely assaulting his nostrils.

"You ever need to talk, come find me, okay? I mean it, Marie, whatever you need."

"Yeah, I promise." Why am I promising? I really don't know, I'll surely break this vow in a matter of hours.

Logan releases me and claps his hands together. He actually looks excited and that can only mean one thing; I'm in for a world of pain.

"That's enough mushy shit for today, Kid. How bout' we go kick some virtual ass?"


	4. A Hard Day's Night

_**I went to see Xmen origins: Wolverine today and have to say I quite enjoyed it, despite the mixed reviews, even caught the short scene after the credits. More naked Hugh Jackman please!**_

_**Thanks for the review, Roguex1

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**A Hard Day's Night

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Ten O'clock finds me sitting on the roof wrapped tightly in a cashmere blanket. I'm suffering from physical exhaustion and my poor weary bones. I swear my body feels just shy of ninety nine.

Logan is a total sadist and don't forget you heard it here first. I mean, come on, he made me fight him in the Danger Room for three hours straight. I also have the sneaking suspicion that I would have been in there for another three hours if it hadn't have been Friday night. He's gone bar hopping tonight because if he doesn't pop in to his favourite bar, the staff might report him missing, presumed dead to the local cops.

"Hey, Rogue, you up here?"

"Yep, over here Johnny."

As he sits himself beside me, I can't help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over my aching body. The three of us used to stay up here late at night, watching the stars and devising a new prank that would undoubtedly get us into trouble.

Smiling he turns his head towards me, "So, you made it in one piece, then?"

"Just about, wise guy. What's in the bag?" I gaze down at the plastic bag he's currently clutching in his lap as though his life depended on it.

"Thought we could use a few light refreshments." And he produces a rather large quantity of beer, Canadian beer to be exact. "Five each."

I can't help but smirk as he places them gently down in front of us.

"They're already shaken up, don't want to make them worse. Might take our eyes out, you know." He explains with a snort.

"Well they do say great minds think alike." I reply playfully as I reach under my blanket and hand him a large bottle of Russian Vodka.

"Where the hell did you find that?" He arches an eyebrow and looks aghast.

"Let's just say they're from the same source as those." I reply pointing at the beer.

"Oh man, I didn't know they belonged to... I mean, I found them hidden in the fridge behind the vegetables and thought I'd just help myself. You snuck into his room to get _that_ didn't you?" Oh bless him, he actually looks quite worried.

"Don't worry, Logan's gone for the night."

Crap, John's having second thoughts. I can't let this happen, especially on my watch. I don't want to drink alone, it's no fun that way. I know what I want, and I'm going to get it, just you wait and see. It's not like I have many choices anyway, it's either Pyro or Jubilee. She would rather donate her clothing allowance to the American society of neglected clowns then drink with me. Jubes says I'm an irresponsible drunk, can you believe that? Irresponsible drunk my ass.

"He'll never find out Johnny, there's too many scents to keep track of in this place." And if you believe that you'll believe anything.

"Uh, okay. Let's drink."

"Okay, then." And I grin almost sincerely. Don't worry, he won't get into trouble. I have it all under control. No really, trust me on this.

I hand him a bottle of beer and crack my own open. Thank God he remembered to bring the bottle opener, I'd rather not use my teeth. I'm nowhere near drunk enough... Hell, I haven't even started yet. "Suck on that, friend of mine."

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Five bottles a piece and the cheap, nasty, vile, foul, revolting, unpleasant and nauseating bottle of vodka has... Well, it's gone, all of it. Where am I going with this you ask? Fuck knows. Please excuse me, I need to get back to my drinking. Oh no, we don't have any left.

"To drinking alcom... Al-co-hol-ic beverages!" I exclaim, holding the empty vodka bottle high in the air "A rather amazingly, fantastical way to spend ones time, eh saint John?" Hmm, patron saint of what though? I wonder if his parents were religious at all.

He scrambles to his knees empty beer in hand and cries " Whatever you say, Marie. Now I've got a speech of my own to make. To, to Wolverine, a guy, yes a guy of many talents, mostly buying good booze!"

We both cheer the absent Logan and fall into a tangled giggling heap on the ground.

"No more uh booze left Saint Johnny...W...What we going to do?" I can't even think for myself when I'm this drunk. Come to think of it, why am I so drunk? I'm no lightweight.

"I suggest a field trip." He jumps to his feet pulling me up with him in the process. How can he be so, so graceful. I'm absolutely shitfaced and here he is prancing, yes prancing around like a, uh, oh I don't know, who cares. I just want me some more drink.

"Where we going?" I ask, well I think that was me. I guess drinking on an empty stomach wasn't such a good idea.

"Got a piece of laminated card that says I'm a Mark Felderman and twenty one years of age."

Ahhhh, so he wants to get us some more drink, huh? Well I'm up for that. Got to get myself one of those, I really do need a fake I.D. "Best idea ever you've had, John. Liquor store here we come!" And off we go.

* * *

"Johnny, my feet hurt." They really do you know, I can't even walk straight. I'm zig- zagging all over the side walk and road. No, that has nothing to do with all the alcohol I've consumed. My feet just ache, yes that's it, they ache real bad.

"Awww, come here, Roguey, I'll give you a piggy back, hop on." John really is considerate, so I hop on his back. He's such an amazing friend.

"You know, you're my best friend, Johnny. My best friend in the whole wiiiiiiiiiiide world." I throw my arm in the air and gesture wildly. He can't see me but it's the thought that counts. Isn't it stupendous to share your feelings like this? I really should do this more often. Stupendous? Now there's a word I've never used before.

"Rogue, hold on!" And he laughs. I like it when he laughs "We're nearly there."

So, this is the liquor store, 'Joe's smoke shop' to be exact .

"Okay, I'll go buy a few bottles, and you... Well, you just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Ah, don't worry," I wave Pyro off and giggle to myself. "I'll just, you know, browse and stuff."

Look at all these pretty bottles. Vodka, Gin, Whiskey, Rum, Tequila, Scotch, Beer, even more beer. Oh look at those cute little miniature bottles of Southern Comfort. Aw, they'd fit right into my pocket.

A quick gaze at the store owner and he's still busy serving John. Nah, he won't notice a pale person like me and my pocket sized bottles of southern stuff. I'll just help myself and my hands put a few dozen cute things in my pockets.

I really do miss the south and yeah, that's a perfect excuse for a few shots of ol' Southern Comfort. I'm homesick, ha, would that excuse stand up in court? Pyro's left and I take it he's waiting outside. Crap I still can't walk straight, my legs really aren't paying any attention to my brain tonight.

"Wait right there, Missy."

Oh shit.

"Who, me?"

Well there's no one else in the store, except that cardboard cut out over there. God damn, the owner really is an ugly bastard up close.

"Empty your pockets."

"What, right here, right now? Uh, no, my pockets have rights, too." I probably really shouldn't be laughing at this point in time but I can't help it. This is all just _so_ damn funny.

"The police are on their way, thief." And the son of a bitch is in my way, blocking my escape... I mean exit. Fine then, Storm always said I needed to respect my elders. Well I'll show her. I might just take a seat behind the counter and take a little nap.

I sit down and flash the ugly guy a sickly sweet smile. I can't understand why he's shooting me the dirtiest of looks, I'm being polite, aren't I?

I'm such a magnet for trouble nowadays and a good girl like me, it really isn't fair.


	5. If You've Got Trouble

_**A quick thanks to The Alternative Source for the review.

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**If You've Got Trouble

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I'm in a cell, a jail cell, a rather disgusting jail cell. Include my pounding head to the situation and its ridiculous. An absolutely ridiculous situation.

Oh, I'm sure it could be worse. I could be on death row right now and I actually quite like the graffiti. Some very talented people have been locked up in here. One of the convicts might even be following in the footsteps of _Monet. _I bet this is how he started out.

Well, at least I'm sober now, about time too. I've been here all damn night and I'm bored, really bored. I think the novelty wore off a long time ago.

I want to get the hell out of here. No scratch that, I'm going to get the hell out of here.

"Hello, can I go home now? You really have taken this too far, I mean it was funny at first!" Nope, still no sign of anyone.

"Hey, listen to me when I'm shouting at you, let me the heck out of here!" A few kicks to the door and yep, that did it, I hear footsteps. Now to bullshit my way out of here, without a criminal record, my day in court and probation, that is.

* * *

"Please, take a seat, Ma'am." And here I am, face to face with some stuck up, la-di-da officer of the law. In what I can only describe as an interview room, double damn it.

"Uh, Katherine, Katherine Pryde." Come on, you know she deserves that, you would have done the same. No, don't you deny it.

"Now, I hope this is your first offence, Miss Pryde."

I nod my liars head curtly.

"I thought as much. A girl like you really doesn't look the type to make a habit of this."

Well, apparently I don't look like a teenage delinquent, that's something I suppose.

"Last night you were unable to give us a number to reach your parents, you were rather intoxicated at the time. So we thought it was better if we let you sleep it off in one of our cells. I'm sure your parents are worried about you, so lets cut to the chase Katherine, your telephone number, please?"

My parents? Yeah, like they'd care, they threw me out for Christ sake. Now this is what I'd call a conundrum, What's a girl to do? It's time to put my thinking cap on.

"I'm twenty one, there's no need to call my parents." Ha, that will do, give the girl a gold star.

"And I'm a monkey's uncle."

Okay, maybe not.

"Watch yourself, Officer, with those long arms you're leaving yourself wide open."

Christ on a bike, where did that come from? I must still be drunk.

"Listen here, young lady..."

"I uh, must be a little drunk still, you know how it is." Perfect save, Rogue. I really can't let my mouth run away from me like that again. My broken body can't take another workout in the Danger Room.

"Yes, yes of course. Now we must get a hold of a family member, Katherine. You're under twenty one years of age, those are the rules I'm afraid."

Oh crap, wait I have the perfect idea, this just might work.

* * *

"Okay, only if I can make the phone call. My parents freak out when they don't hear my voice."

"I can't believe that worked!" I cry as I wrap my arms around my incredibly attractive boyfriend. You should see him; he's tall, dark and handsome and a woman's wet dream. If women do have wet dreams. I suppose they could if they really put their minds to it. Oh and you haven't heard the best part; He's also over the age of twenty one.

"Keep hugging me like that, Baby and they won't believe you're my little sister." He whispers in my ear and he's got a valid point.

"Oh come on, Doug, how can I keep my hands off you. After all, we missed our date last night, then I got drunk, stole myself some booze, got arrested..."

"Okay, I get it but we can't stand around here all day, though. I've got a deal later, you in again?"

Why are we standing outside a jail discussing this? I'd rather not find myself getting reacquainted with that cell again. I might be reduced to painting a mural on the walls or something equally as disturbing.

"You know what?" I reply, grinning as we walk to the car. "I just might be, yeah count me in. Can we stop by the mansion first though, I need a change of clothes."

I don't know what I did to deserve Doug but I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Yes, that's a slightly cheesy statement to attach my name to and I couldn't care less.

He's not big on romantic gestures, still anyone's better than Bobby Drake. Doug, he's hot, has cash, tonnes of cash and I'm no gold digger, mind you.

I mean look at the car he drives, it's a BMW. What type you ask? How the hell should I know? A cars, a car, although this particular one is expensive. You just have to take a look at this car to know that we belong together. We both have expensive taste. Although I doubt he's reduced to stealing his expensive possessions for kicks, shits and giggles.

"So, why did you have to cancel our date last night?" Doug questions me curiously, and that's the sixty four million dollar question.

"Oh, you know, family problems, the usual." I answer lazily from the spot on the back seat where I'm currently curled up. I am never drinking again as long as I live, this headache has returned with a vengeance. He's slowing down, are we there already?

Shit, wait a second, is that a motorcycle I hear rumbling inside my poor swollen and stifled brain?

"Eek!" I throw myself on the floor and crouch low behind one of the seats. You know exactly what I'm doing, I don't need to explain myself. Doug may deserve an explanation though, he's looking at me as if I've grown another head.

"Should I even ask, Baby?"

"What did he look like?"

"Who?"

"The guy on the bike, it was a guy, wasn't it?"

"Uh, dark hair, mean looking, leather jacket, no helmet."

I thought so, that's Logan alright. Riding without a helmet sort of gives him away, he never was the unassuming type and he is mean looking.

"Did he just leave the mansion?"

"Yeah, looked like it. Wait, do you know him?"

I crawl out from my hiding place and peer over my shoulder at the deserted road. That was such a close call, I think I wet myself. I guess Logan's heading to another bar. Hmm, strange. He doesn't usually hit them until about noon.

"You could say that. Listen to me carefully, if he comes back, just take off because trust me, you really don't want to get on his bad side." Which is exactly where I am at this moment in time.

I open the car door telling Doug I'll be back in a few minutes and walk towards the gates. I can't help thinking that maybe I've gone too far this time. Logan really is going to kill me but he'll have to catch me first and I've learnt from the best.

* * *

"Roguey!" And there goes my attempt at being inconspicuous. I should never have walked past the kitchen at this time of day, there was bound to be someone in there.

"Hi Jubes, would _really_ love to talk but I'm in a hurry." Move your butt Rogue, time is of the essence.

"Wait up, girl, you've been M.I.A all night. I've gotta bring you up to date on today's gossip." She squeals running after me and pulling me to a stop.

Oh God, this is going to take forever. I really don't have time for another one of her rambling, essay length style talks on every inhabitant in the solar system.

"Pyro's in deep shit."

Okay, maybe I could find the time to hear her out, she is a valued friend after all.

"Storm's yelling at him now. We've all placed our bets, I've got twenty on him getting kicked out. Oh and where were you last night? Logan and Storm were going out their crazy minds."

Holy shit, I was with John last night, wasn't I? Hold on, hold on, let me think about this for a moment. Last night is for most parts a large blur. Damn, Logan's drink.

I can't let him take the fall for whatever we did, although I'm sure it was fun. So I do what I do best, I burst into Storm's office. I could always make an entrance from the age of three when I walked in on my parents having sex.

"Rogue, where an earth have you been?" There's Storm sat in her usual chair with that glare aimed my way. Along with Johnny and his wide eyes. He's nervous or surprised, I don't know which and I probably don't have the time to find out.

"Oh hey, Ms. Monroe, uh, sorry for the interruption. I just needed to say, please don't blame John for last night. I took Logan's alcohol, I waited till he left then stole it, all of it. So, yeah, how's it going?"

A little help here. Please. Pretty please.

"Uh, didn't you want to know where I've been?" That's a definite nod, dammit. "Not his fault either, he didn't lose me or anything. You see, there was a slight misunderstanding and the individuals concerned were polite enough to offer me a bed for the night." I don't think I've ever said so much in such little time. I'm glad Logan's not here, he would smell the BS a mile off.

Storm spends all of ten seconds taking in the absolute crap I've just spurted out, then snaps back into responsible headmistress mode. Why is she reaching for the phone?

"I need to call Logan, he's out looking for you again."

No, she can call him when I'm a million miles away, at a safe distance. I don't have a death wish you know, well not yet anyway. I rush over to her, slapping her hand away from the phone. Now she looks rather annoyed, was that a flash of white I just saw in her eyes?

"No, no, no, there's no need for that. I uh, saw him leaving earlier, he's going to a bar, you know for happy hour and loose women."

"Typical Logan..."

She can bitch about him later. I've got my man waiting for me and people to do, things to see. Shouldn't that be the other way round? Pfft, I'm out of here.

"Wait just a minute, Rogue, you can't leave. We've got a great many…"

"Ro', I'll explain it all later but I really need to take a shower and a nap. I'm in desperate need for a nap." I have no intention of doing either but she doesn't need to know that. I'd rather not start my day off by getting struck by lightning, the burns wouldn't be easy to explain away when I crawl back to Doug's car.

"Is that all you've got to say for yourself?" Storm splutters, sounding rather annoyed at the back of my head. But I'm already half way out of the door and there is no stopping me now.

"Thanks for understanding Storm, see you later!" And I dash out of the office without a second glance, I have a bag to pack.


	6. Under Pressure

_**Thanks to mcr-rules089. I love receiving reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying it. I'm fond of reading 'Bad girl Rogue' stories too. She can't be perfect all the time, LOL**_

_**Warning- the following chapter contains illegal drug use.

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**Under Pressure

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"This stuff is the best, baby, you've really got to try it,"

I glance at the small bag full of white powder Doug is currently dangling in front of my nose. You want to know what the hell I've gone and gotten myself into don't you.

To cut a long story short, the day Iceman dumped my irritated ass, you could say that I was feeling rather sorry for myself. Ha, now that's the understatement of the century.

I could have stayed cooped up in the mansion and stuffed my face. Its not like I didn't have enough chocolate brownie ice cream and other fattening snacks at my disposal. Maybe I could have even holed up in bed for a week, crying my eyes out, sobbing on Jubilee's shoulder.

The words you need to focus on here are 'could have'. Yes I could have acted like any other girl when they get treated like utter shit, but I didn't.

Come off it, you really didn't expect me to did you? No I thought not.

So I headed into the city, I had some cash to burn, and what better way to get over heartbreak then getting stinking drunk. Sure I was on my own, but when has that ever stopped me from having fun.

I used my womanly charms to gain entry into a swanky club, well it was either that or dress like a hooker and I do have some standards you know. That's where I met him, my Doug.

I stumbled into the men's restroom (please get your mind out of the gutter, there was a rather large queue for the ladies and I desperately needed to pee) and walked straight into a small time drugs deal.

Of course I got talking to the dealer, as you do and it just so happened to be Doug. We swapped numbers and I got high for the first time ever that night, very high, hell I was walking on sunshine. And there you have it. I know its hardly Romeo and Juliet but its been a roller coaster of highs and lows ever since, well mostly highs.

"What is it?" Whatever 'it' is has to be high quality merchandise. Doug can't keep himself still. If he's not careful, he's going to burn a hole in the carpet.

"New batch of Cocaine. It was shipped here last week. How can I sell it if I don't know the affects? It wouldn't be fair to the customers now, would it?"

I wasn't born yesterday, you know. He's been skimming off the top of these new shipments for weeks.

"I suppose not, but Doug, you do know that Cocaine is God's way of telling you that you make too much money, right?"

"Ah, but that's the beauty of this, Baby, it's all free. Now lets cut you a line..."

I smile, shift on the couch and eye my man as he hands me the rolled up twenty dollar note. Oh well, you only live once.

* * *

I haven't showered it what, three days or something, I feel rank, Jubes would be ashamed, my appearance has gone down the toilet. I've been living with Doug, and have literally spent the past few days having a crash course in all _things_ drug related. Who needs school when you can learn so much on the streets alongside your handsome, rich boyfriend.

Maybe its time to go home, I'm probably in enough trouble as it is. I'll be lucky if I'm allowed to set foot outside the mansion grounds ever again.

"I'm going to head home now, Doug." I grab my duffel bag and glance into his spaced out eyes. I think he heard me, he does look rather dazed though. You know I never did get around to changing my clothes. "I wouldn't be surprised if I've been reported as a missing person." I wouldn't put that past Storm, she's always so efficient.

"Wait, wait, Joey gave me these earlier, Baby. Here take four with you for the road. Call me later, tell me what you think." I look down at Doug's outstretched hand as he crawls towards me on shaky hands and knees.

There are four small, round pink pills, with indescribable shapes stamped on them. Again I don't see the harm in just trying them. Oh hush, I didn't ask for your opinion. As I've said before, trust me because I know what I'm doing. Anyway nothing bad has happened yet, my hearts still beating and the feelings returned in my feet.

"Sure." I kiss Doug goodbye. I swear he looks like death warmed up, he just needs some sleep. Its been a crazy few days for the both of us.

* * *

"Wow" Look at all those stunning street lights, they're very symmetrical. I so, so, so approve, yes that's a big thumbs up from me. Those stars are dazzling, enchanting even. And that moon its, its, dammit, I'm on the floor again. one minute I'm up there, yes right there and wow, just wow.

Oh, I'm laying next to the mansion gates, how ironic. Ugh, my brain feels all fuzzy, I don't feel to well. I can't even reach the buzzer from down here, were my arms always this short?

God its boiling out here, I need to take this coat off. I never knew New York could be so warm in February. It's such a beautiful, fuzzy, starry, beautiful, stunning night. I've never ever witnessed anything like this, my eyes have been opened to the beauty. I think I'm going to be sick, my mouth tastes weird.

My eyelids feel so heavy, its safe to sleep here for a while, isn't it?

It will all work itself out in the end, don't you worry your pretty little heads about me, I'll be fine.


	7. I'm Going Slightly Mad

**_Okay, so first things first, shout outs to the following three people who have made my day with their reviews: _**

_**Brit-Babe191- thanks again for reviewing, I read your story and its great! :)**_

_**Darkfantasy16 -Glad you're hooked, more dark Rogue to come. Nice new name and here's another shout out! LOL**_

_**NyahLi1-Is under pressure originally a David Bowie song? I had no idea, well I know he's in the Queen version and it's now stuck in my head too!**_

_**Disclaimer - I don't own the Panic at the disco song that's mentioned, fortunately ;)**_

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**I'm Going Slightly Mad**

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"Kid, Kid!"

What the heck is happening? Where is that racket coming from and why is it in my bedroom?

Opening my eyes and squinting at my current surroundings, I see a very tall and hairy shape peering down at me. No, I'm not in my bedroom. I can't be, that's a tree over there I think. I don't have any trees in my room, do I?

My silly eyes are just being disobedient, I mean why else would my vision be so blurry. The shape is coming closer towards me now and it's brushing the hair out of my face.

It has such a gentle touch, yes, a touch is such a phenomenon in my life, although I really don't know why. All people are able to touch, aren't they?

"Kid, answer me, damn it." The shape can talk, how perplexing.

I have never felt so peculiar in all my life. I mean I'm tingling from head to toe. That's not normal, as least I think its not. What was in those pills? You just wait till I get a hold of that guy. You know the one, I'm currently dating him, I think.

Is this what they call a bad trip? Someone must really hate me up there, others get the standard pink elephant, me, I get some absurd talking shape.

"Marie, what the hell have you taken?" I don't understand, the shape knows my name but why is it now yelling at me. I thought shapes were polite and well mannered. Shapes and shadows obviously need to take people skills training… Communication training, or do I mean leadership skills? No, this shape already has a mouth and all that jazz. A very BIG mouth.

"Nothing" I lift my arm up and try to swat the annoying shape. That strange intrusive shape needs to learn some manners. I'm sure it's Mother would be ashamed. You can't just go around shouting at random people, its impolite.

"Cut it out! Now what have you taken? Your pupils are huge."

They are? Aw, how fantastic, I'm a girl with huge pupils. That reminds me of a certain song I know. I never have a chance to express myself musically.

"Your eyes are the size of the moon, you could cause you can so you do..." Why is the shape not joining in? It's my hallucination and it should be pulling on a sparkly dress, singing, singing and singing. Ugh, I'm so tired all of a sudden, "Go away shape, leave me to sleep in peace."

"Hey, come on stay with me. No you don't, keep those eyes open." The rude shape is slapping me around the face. How rude. "Good girl, keep em' open. I need to get you to Hank, can you walk?"

Why would I want to walk? I happen to be very comfortable where I am. Yes this concrete is more than satisfactory to lay on. I also have a perfect view of the moon from here.

"Can you see the man?" I question the idiotic shape, hoping it doesn't slap me again.

"What man?"

"The man in the moon." I remember being told that story when I was young, well much younger then I am today.

"Shit, kid, will you just concentrate on gettin' your ass up!" Now the shape is pawing me. If this is an hallucination, what does this say about the state of my mental health.

"I'm hot and cold, shape. How is that possible?" I don't understand my body. I'm shivering one minute and sweating big old bug eyed bullets the next.

"You better be okay, darlin', cause' I'm gonna kill you when you snap out of this."

Hey, I'm floating, floating to the man in the moon. My blurred vision and sleepy eyes glance up and there's a chest, some leather too. Oh the shape is carrying me, once again how very considerate of it. The motion is making me sleepy though. The shapes arms are more comfy then the concrete. My eyes close and I don't mind if the shape wants to take me to it's lair and eat me. I only want to sleep.

* * *

I begin to stir awake, the starchy, scratchy sheets sticking to the drool on my chin. Why do people have to be so loud when I'm trying to sleep. Nobody has any common sense in this damn mansion, their heads are so far stuck up their own butts.

"So, she'll be okay, then?"

Where the hell did that come from? Oh, no, I'm in the God damn med lab again. I hate it in here. I always feel the urge to either burn the place down, or crack open a tin of fluorescent pink paint. The walls really could do with a lick of paint, I hate the colour white. It does little for my confidence when I match in with the walls. Although, it could also be considered as a bizarre attempt at camouflage. You know, in case someone like a six foot, two inch tall mass of adamantium and muscle strolls in here looking for me.

That concerned muffled group of words sounded a lot like Storm. She has this way of coming across extremely motherly, but without the sprinkle of disappointment and guilt trips.

"I believe so, yes. However, I had to pump her stomach free of its contents, to be on the safe side. Our Miss Rogue is very lucky Logan found her when he did."

And that would be Hank, the furry blue… Damn, Logan found me? How don't I remember that part and when did I get back to the mansion? I know for a fuzzy fact I left Doug's apartment yesterday some time between twelve noon and five in the morning. I just don't recall the journey in between, the arrival or Logan at all. Jesus, I bet he went on a growling frenzy. He was probably in his growling element.

"What was she thinking?" That's Storm again and I bet she's pacing outside in the corridor. I'm so thankful they're both not in here right now. I don't think I could take it, my stomach's a little iffy and my throat hurts.

"I think we'd all like to know that, but as I informed Logan, she needs her rest. The interrogation will have to wait until she wakes." Why, thank you Dr. Henry McCoy. I think I should buy him a present. Something that screams; You saved my life and I love you for it. "Now, Ororo, I suggest we both get some sleep ourselves."

Finally it's safe to sit up, I heard their footsteps faintly disappearing towards the elevator. I absolutely hate the med lab, it makes my toes curl. I wonder if it's Logan's influence on me, he dislikes the place too. It's just so clinical and uninviting. The beds are uncomfortable too. And when Hank knows I'm awake he's going to want to poke, prod and ask me multiple questions all at once. I don't like being prodded and then Storm will lecture me.

Anyway, I need a shower and a clean change of clothes because I'm off on a one woman mission to throttle my brainless, loser of a boyfriend. It's easy to sneak out of the mansion, especially when you run so fast, you're sure you've pulled every muscle out of place. I learnt that trick from Johnny, he always did run after insulting Logan.

* * *

"Doug, answer the fucking door because I'm not leaving. I swear I'll camp here if I have to." It's half eight in the morning and now I'm the one airing my dirty laundry in public. Guys, they are all such stubborn jerks that need to be beaten into submission. Oh and I'll beat him alright. "Open the door you pathetic excuse for a human being!"

Ha, here he comes, I can hear him unlocking the bolts on the door. It's about time to, I swear his next door neighbour is about ready to call the cops on the loud mouthed girl that woke the entire neighbourhood up.

"Baby, what are you doing here?" He mutters, his dishevelled head poking out of the door and looking as rough as I feel.

"You look like shit, Sugar."

He's kind of cute with his whole just woken up look and he's got a six pack to die for. Look at that chest hair, it's like candy floss… Am I drooling again?

"It's been a rough night, come in. How were those pills?" He shuts the door and leads me towards the couch, gesturing for me to sit down. "I took one last night and was as sick as a dog for hours."

"One! You mean... and I? ... Oh my God!" I collapse on the couch dumbfounded and release a rather momentous sigh. I was only supposed to take one but I went and took all four at once. So I effectively went and overdosed on a small illegal amount of narcotics which lead to me passing out and having my stomach pumped. Well, that's certainly not a story I will be telling the grandkids. That's if I ever make it to a ripe old age.

"How many did you take, Baby?"

I shoot a dark glare at Doug and he falls silent. Surely drugs should come with an instruction manual? Hell, I'd settle for reading 'Drugs For Dummies'. Am I really that naïve? I lived on the streets alone for months, that should count towards something.

Before I can shout at my soon to be ex boyfriend about how he could have explained the etiquette of popping pills. The door is kicked open, off it's brass hinges and in marches a positively murderous Logan.

Okay I admit it, I'm terrified. What the hell do I do now, is it too late to make a run for it?


	8. Another One Bites The Dust

_**Once again the shout outs: **_

_**darkfantasy16 - Another review! I like an angry Logan, although I'm sure its rather hard to actually kick a door off its hinges. It just had to be done. It's so overly dramatic, LOL**_

_**noro - Thanks for the review, its always nice to hear from a new reader :) You're from OZ Is it as miserable there as it is in the UK? **_

_**Nyahli1 - I'm sure you're not too old, I've just never been a David Bowie fan. Still can't get over my shock of seeing that Bowie and Jagger video on MTV. Dancing in the street, I think it was called. Logan is one sexy guy, I agree with you there... yummy Hugh Jackman ;)**_

_**CaptMacKenzie - Thanks, and I really do appreciate your review. All your points are valid. I should spend more time developing my writing and adding more descriptive wording ect. But I'm always in too much of a rush to get to the next chapter, a bad habit I know. And Rogue has had a very busy week, hasn't she?**_

_**StrFallenAngl63 - Hope I got the name right. Glad you're enjoying this. Thanks for reviewing and adding this fic to your favourite story list.**_

_**bookall - Also a thank you for reading and adding this story to your favourites :)**_

**Oh and I also took a slight liberty with Rogue's age in this story.

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**Another One Bites The Dust

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I was once an X-Man and I proudly wore my leather uniform along side the rest of the reluctant superheroes of West Chester, New York. I was taught to handle any potentially dangerous situation that could possibly be thrown in my direction; and my oh my, have I experienced some real doozies.

I used to thrive in these types of circumstances, I fought for my country, for the safety of all humanity and for mutant rights. Then I took the cure and everything around me began to crumble at my feet. It all happened too fast for me rectify and I realised that life was just too hard a struggle for me on my own.

My Mama used to say 'Every cloud has a sliver lining' and I'm failing to find one here, though not through want of trying. I've talked myself out of jail; so an argument with an irate Logan should be a piece of cake. On more than one occasion I've been on the receiving end of Wolverine's wrath and have always handled it with dignity.

Oh hell, I would always scamper away and avoid him until I was sure that everything had blown over and his anger had run its course.

Yes, I'm a coward when it comes too Logan, I always have been. No, I'm not scared of him, I know he would never hurt me intentionally but every other individual I know is so easy to manipulate and Logan seems to be the opposite. None of the usual innocent fluttering of eyelashes or girlish pouting works on him.

Now face to face with 'Murderous Logan' I have a feeling that he is beyond the constraints of simple anger, judging by the large vein that's pulsating on his forehead.

"Logan, I can explain everything!" I cry, holding my hands up and biting my lower lip. I have no idea how though, the knucklehead has probably heard the whole conversation with that enhanced hearing of his. "It's really not what it looks like," No, he's not my drug dealing boyfriend whose been supplying me for months. "If you'll just hear me out before you kill anyone," Mainly me. "It really is a funny story, you'll just laugh and laugh." Do you think that made any difference at all or am I just digging myself into a deeper hole?

Well, he hasn't said a word yet, dressed in his usual getup of wife beater, denim and leather. Why is he just standing there in the door way? Anyone would think that we were the ones who had invited him over for a friendly chat.

Yet he doesn't exactly give off those friendly vibes. He's positively scowling at both of us and sniffing the apartment. Jeez, I bet his nose is being drowned by the sailing scents of certain drugs that Doug keeps stashed away.

Wolverine's eyes snap to me and I gulp. "Now, Logan, I..."

I have no idea, every excuse that I'm coming up with just doesn't do this current scene justice. Let alone last night; that's a whole different ballgame.

He takes a step towards us as I take hold of Doug's arm and pull him gently behind me. Yes, I was about to temporarily break up with him but I ain't letting nobody else kill my man, that's my job.

"Hey, I recognise you." Doug announces excitedly, pointing over my shoulder. "Isn't he _that_ motorcycle guy, Baby?" My jaw drops and Logan cocks an eyebrow. "You know the one you were hiding from yesterday?"

The guy's an idiot, a very good looking idiot in every sense. A humdinger of a comment he's made there. Sure Doug, forget to mention the fact your front door is currently located horizontally on your lounge floor. I'm sure that sort of thing happens to you all the time.

"Now really isn't the time." I inform him, slowly backing away from the guy that will be serving life for double homicide in the near future.

Every step Logan takes towards us, both myself and Doug seem to be doubling backwards towards the far side of the apartment. We carry on this charade until we're pressed against the wall with a glowering mutant standing directly in front of us.

I was expecting Logan to make a scene, maybe throw a punch, threaten Doug with a possible loss of life or tear me a new one but he still hasn't said a word. He's doing this deliberately, he knows the Logan silence unnerves me.

In a blink and you will certainly miss it action, his hand moves so fast I think I'm hallucinating again. Unfortunately for my tired eyes, the hand in question latches itself onto my upper arm and Logan hauls me over to the door-less exit.

"Don't even think about movin'." He orders in a deadly hiss, his finger hovering close to my left eye.

I think it's safe to say I have pissed him off, probably to the point where my overly large mouth couldn't prevent this situation from blowing up in my face. Holy crap, I've seen _that_ glint in his eyes before; he's found himself a new prey to terrorize and it's my boyfriend. I think I had better stay where I am, but any bloodshed and I'm going to jump right into the fray.

With a warning look, Logan turns on his battered rubber heels and strolls up to Doug. "So, you're the boyfriend she's been hidin', huh?"

I resent that comment, I wasn't hiding him. I'm entitled to a life as much as the next person. Especially away from the confines of that damn mansion.

"Uh, yes I am Sir, nice to meet you. Marie's a great girl."

Both guys are facing each other and Doug walks obligingly towards Logan with his right hand held out. There is no way that Logan will ever shake that hand, he'd never even shake Scott's hand and he didn't have a murky past and possible future in a world full of narcotics.

Logan takes one look at Doug's peace offering and a smirk creeps on his face. If I told you that in just under a minutes time somebody will wrap his calloused hand around my boyfriends throat and slam him against the wall, would you believe me?

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi… Ha, I told you so, but I didn't actually expect the claws to make an appearance. Especially not so close to my Doug's throat.

"What are they?... They're claws! You're one of those mutants!" Doug squeaks with wide eyes and paling face.

"You picked yourself a smart one here, Marie." Well I thought so. I like the smart ones that also look pretty when they say things. "I'm only gonna tell you this once, Bub, so listen good. Stay away from the girl, she don't need your sort in her life."

I'm so angry, I can't even find the words to scream profanities at the back of his head. How dare Logan make those kind of decisions for me? I'm not a kid, I can make my own decisions concerning who I lay down with.

"B... But…"

"You see _these_ claws, boy? If I ever see that mug of yours again, they're goin' through your skull, understood?"

The nerve of the guy, what is his problem? Why does being an asshole give him permission to interfere in my life and why did he feel the need to scare my boyfriend into wetting his pyjama pants? Wait, Doug has wet his pants... Oh, shit.

"Well, I'd say my job here is done."

Stupid Logan and his impossibly stupid smirk. How can he even contemplate smirking at a time like this? My life is over as I currently know it, my boyfriend has humiliated himself in front of us both and he'll never want to see me again after seeing those claws, he's probably scared to death.

"You're freaks, you're both freaks." Doug declares in a rather timid whisper while rubbing his ruby red throat and standing in his own piss.

Blinking the tears away, I shake my head. "Doug, please don't, I really care for you."

No, no, this can't be happening. I won't be cast aside again because someone else believes I'm too different to love. I'm not going to get hurt, I can't go through this again. I don't have enough super glue to piece together my broken heart for one thing.

He won't even look at me. "Just get out of here, go back to your own kind." Doug says and I feel my heart shattering.

It's too late, he won't listen now, he's made his mind up but I don't have my own kind. I don't belong with either mutants or humans and I don't want to spend my time in Logan's irate company.

"Okay, have it your way, have fun mopping _that_ up." I scoff, swallowing the desperate need to cry and replacing it with sarcasm. "I hear urine stains are a bitch to clean."

I should have stuck to my guns and kept my heart under lock and key. He won't see me cry though, I have to stay in control. So I turn and race out of the apartment like a bat out of burning hell. Why does it always come to this? Thoughts of drowning my trampled on feelings in the bottom of a shot glass.

* * *

"Kid, wait up!"

"Go away, Logan!" I cry, once again airing my dirty laundry in public. This time it just so happens to be on a public street. I'm heading to a bar, any bar. One where I can shamelessly flirt with a man and coerce him into buying me hundreds of alcoholic drinks. I want to bathe in vodka tonight, swim in it.

"Hey," Well, grabbing my arm is a sure way to gain my attention. The steel grip is a nice touch also, seeing as its stopping me dead in my tracks. "Where the hell are you goin' now? You can't keep takin' off like this!" He snarls in my face.

"You're joking, right? Oh, you're such a God damn hypocrite! You take off all the time, so don't you dare stand there and lecture me. I'll have you know that when I take off, I stay in the country, hell, I stay in the same city!"

In answer to my blatant disregard of his opinion, he begins to growl. I attempt to shake his tightening grip off of my now newly bruised arm but his hand refuses to budge.

"That's different and you know it."

"How!" I screech, my arm beginning to turn numb. Our rather petty fight is now attracting a crowd of prying eyes and that doesn't surprise me at all. Women are drawn to Logan yet again.

"You're just a kid, you're seventeen and I can take care of myself!" Logan bellows spitting slightly in my face.

So that's what he really thinks of me then? I'm just some dumb, useless kid that he feels an obligation to take care of.

"I can look after myself. I was perfectly fine before I met you!" I shout back, now matching Logan's tone to a tee.

He takes a deep resigned sigh attempting to regain his composure. "Marie, you were in some shit hole of a bar, with no money and nowhere to go! You were starvin', you can't take care of yourself, look at the state you were in last night!"

I was starting to wonder how long it would take him util he brought that mess up.

"And that's why you just had to follow me down here! For your information I knew exactly what I was doing last night!"

"Yeah, sure you did, kid" He grunts eyeing me with growing scowl. "That the first time you've tried any of that crap?"

"Yes, yes it is." I reply a little too innocently.

"You're lyin', kid, I can smell it." Logan mutters quietly so the crowd don't overhear.

He shakes his head in disappointment. What does he want me to do, apologise?

"Why should you care anyway? None of _this_ is any of _your_ business and thanks to you I'm down a boyfriend. So just let me go and leave me the hell alone!"

"Marie, the guy was a creep. You ain't gonna be seein' him again anyway, so what's the damn problem?"

Oh, I will see him again someday, somehow, if only to spite the grumpy bastard and his belief that I'm a lost little kid who needs his protection.

"My problem is you, now let go of my arm! I don't want you in my life, I never did, just stay away from me!" I seethe.

"Fine." Logan growls, releasing my arm from his grip and glancing away.

"Fine." I return the growl and storm off in my search for a bar. "What are you looking at, lady, never seen a fight before?" I sarcastically ask the nosey old hag whose currently giving me a disapproving stare as I pass her by.

Again, I'll be fine and I can live my life without Logan's influence. He doesn't rule me or veto my choice of boyfriends and fun. I can stumble through this crap I call life on my own alongside the drugs and drink, can't I?


	9. Yer Blues

_**Thanks to:**_

_**Brit-Babe191 - I'm fast because I have no life, LOL. No, I'm kidding. I'm chuffed you like the story :) And more bad ass Rogue in this chapter! More caring Logan? Well you'll just have to read and make up your own mind.**_

_**darkfantasy16 - I love drama and angst, so there will be more of that coming.**_

_**noro - Here's the update :)**_

_**And NyahLi1 - That's a hell of a long review, LOL! You just had to mention that song, didn't you? Now its in my head again! I say it's a Queen song for arguments sake :P The main problem with the Jagger/Bowie video was the 'Dad dancing', never let those two near a dance floor. And don't apologise, I enjoyed reading it :) **_

_**The next chapter is named after a cool Beatles track. Looooove The Beatles.

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**Yer Blues

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Please don't belittle me or downplay what I'm about to say, this is an announcement of biblical proportions. Okay, I might be slightly overdoing it there but you can kiss my ass, I'm a teenager, every situation is a jumble of dramatic life or death choices. Make the wrong one and 'BAM' your peers will ignore your existence for a freakin' long time.

Here I go, and listen carefully its not everyday you hear an honest remark fall from these lips; I have come to the conclusion that my life is a piece of utter horse shit. There I said it and I stand by my statement, yes, this is me standing proudly on my soapbox for all to hear.

Now go get yourself a stiff drink, kick back, relax and listen to my tale of woe, even I'd admit that I'm in a slightly pessimistic and cynical mood and you had better get used to it because my current frame of mind is still taking a serious nose dive. What can I say, I'm a product of my lousy environment.

So, let me start off by telling you that I have had a fucking God awful, crappy and all round unpleasant week, filled with several alcohol binges and various Marijuana highs. In the immortal words of Jon Bon Jovi 'Every body's got their cross to bare these days' and I sure as hell have mine.

Yes a damn week has dragged by since the train wreck I have now dubbed 'Doug Gate' blew up in my face and knocked my world on its ass once again. Before you ask, I did find a bar eventually, although I had to patiently wait a few hours for it to open its doors to us faithful patrons eagerly awaiting our first drink of the day. Apparently craving a drink at nine thirty in the morning is not commonplace among seventeen year old girls, I say that's just a crock of shit.

I had the strangest feeling of being watched while I nursed drink after drink, to the point where the hair on the back of my neck was standing on end regularly. To my annoyance every curious scan of the bar resulted in me seeing nothing out of the ordinary, just your run of the mill scuzzy drunks. But when my drinking partner went to the restroom and didn't return, the never ending drinks stopped flowing, so I was forced to call it a day and stagger home in a fairly nonchalant manner.

Which brings me to the present day and time has crawled passed at a snails pace. I've surprisingly been given a wide berth to sulk, cry and twiddle my thumbs as I please and I'm extremely mind numbingly bored. So bored in fact that I actually sat down pen and paper in hand and pooled all my effort into working out exactly how long its been since I last saw Doug, right down to the seconds. Well no one can ever accuse me of not being thorough.

Trust me when I say that I have never been driven to the brink of using math equations to satisfy my boredom before and lets hope it never happens again. Using mathematics to pass the time is a scary concept and one I'd rather not repeat anytime soon.

Check this out; A hundred and sixty eight hours in a week, ten thousand and eighty minutes in seven days and believe it or not there are six hundred and four thousand eight hundred seconds in a god damn week. Its been a week since my own 'Doug Gate' scandal and I've been plotting ever since.

All this free time on my hands and I've driven myself undoubtedly crazy. That's it, I'm a certifiable nut job, maybe I always have been. Hell, I'm sure the guys in white coats are on their way around here for a house call. I'll be in a straight jacket and padded cell before I can hide under my bed and beg for forgiveness.

I have lost count of the amount of times I've called Doug and left millions, billions and fucking zillions of answer phone messages and you've guessed it he never fucking replies.

What is wrong with me? Do I disgust him too such an extent that he has to elude my every visit and screen my calls. He's a dealer for fuck sake and I know for a fact that he always has his phone with him. I think I'm one step away from becoming a professional unpaid stalker and I'm maybe unintentionally displaying tendencies of a bunny boiler nature. It's not a road I'd like to travel down but he's fucking frustrating me!

So you would be right in saying that I have had little else to do then watch time literally slip through my fingers, that and stomp religiously throughout the mansion searching for a place of solitude. After trying my bedroom, the kitchen, rec-room, lounge, Ro's flower garden, the med bay, the lab, the war room and even the damn jet hanger. I finally found the perfect place; The library and do you want to know the best part, there's no one in sight. Apparently these ancient dust covered books act as a repellent to all other teens in a ten mile radius and I can even hear myself think... Hallelujah!

You'll currently find me dressed in sweats curled up with my knees drawn to my chest resting on the window seat beside a crackling open fire. I love sitting beside a roaring fire during the winter months, there is something so poetic, maybe romantic about that image. I just wish that I had someone to share this moment with.

I'm racking my brain for an easy solution to my problems but I don't like what I'm hearing. There is no solution, my boyfriend was a fucking bigot, a rather attractive bigot, damn him, and I can't force him to change. Well I could hold a gun to his head but there's that whole illegal can of worms to contend with and of course a leopard never changes its spots...Ugh...Shit!

Fuck it, day dreaming and nosing out of the window, now that's more up my street. I'll give my brain a rest and think of something later, it always happens, doesn't it. You spend hours struggling to think of a specific word or item and then when you least expect it 'wham' you've remembered it.

My hot breath leaves a coat of condensation on the glass and with my finger I draw an unhappy, frowning face for my own amusement , until a movement captures my attention on the lawn. A man strides across the immaculately kept lawns heading in the direction of the woods and I'll give you three guesses. Yep, you've it in one, it's Logan.

Biting the inside of my cheek and narrowing my eyes, I watch him stop in his tracks and fumble with a lighter. We haven't spoken a word to each other since 'Doug Gate'.

Of course we can't avoid each other for ever, even in a mansion. We have bumped into each other from time to time but he treats me like any other annoyance with a sharp look and a heartfelt growl and if the truth be told its killing me inside. I'm not his 'Kid', I've changed, I'm not the idealistic little girl he met and its pissing the both of us off. But I don't know how to go back, too much has happened in the space of four months and that 'Marie' is truly dead, she probably died the day Bobby ripped out her heart and tossed it in the food processor.

I miss Logan, I miss his warm paternal hugs, the motorcycle rides. Heck, I even miss him yelling at me, at least I knew then that he still gave a damn about. No, that's not true, I know he still cares. Twice this week I've passed out drunk in the boathouse and only to have miraculously woken up tucked in my own bed with the lingering smell of cigar smoke for comfort.

I need to apologise to him, he's a good friend and I probably need all the help I can get at the moment. Anyway I'm scarce on the friends front, so I'll suck it up and act like the adult, I'll say sorry and that I do need him in my life; but first things first I've got an ex-boyfriend to snare.

* * *

I know I should be in an English Lit class but some things are more important, matters of the heart being one. I think I've found my true calling, I'm back to being a stalker again and this is the plan so pay close attention.

I wait hidden out of sight outside Doug's apartment, then I can follow him, corner him somewhere and make him talk. See, isn't it brilliant, no its genius and absolutely nothing can go wrong. I knew my X-men training would come in handy again someday, who needs depraved bad guys when you can practice on your asshole of an ex.

Remember when I said I have 'Standards', the whole jazz about not dressing like a hooker, well I have had a rather drastic change of heart. I look like a cross between a burlesque dancer, a stripper and a ten dollar a night hooker. I suppose the fish net stockings don't help matters, the barely there black mini skirt, that skimpy top I found under my bed and the sky scraper heels are just creating a stereotypical image I thought I'd rather not associate myself with but hell, has it been fun.

Guys are slowing their cars to an almost standstill and honking their horns at me, wait until I tell Jubes that I've been honked at and more than once!

I even styled my hair into long flowing waves and raided Jubilee's makeup bag. Thick black eyeliner, bucket loads of mascara and ruby red lipstick complete my new look. Let's see Doug turn my ass down now, Ha, he wouldn't dare.

To deal with a guy like him, I need to wet his appetite and what better way to do it then get in his pants, he won't know what hit him.

This will all go to plan as long as I don't fall ass over tit in front of him, these shoes are a bitch to walk in.

I've arrived at my destination but there's no chance in me actually finding Doug among all this, well this... I have no idea how to describe what the hell's going on.

The apartment block has been cordoned off, there must be five police cars parked out front with two officers guarding the front entrance. Oh God, I make my way through the gathering crowd earning my fair share of lust filled looks, until I have the perfect advantage point, I've got the best view in the...

"Miss Pryde?" Huh, I turn to the nearest cop car and to my horror walking over in my direction is Officer...Um... Oh, to hell with it. Its Officer What's-His-Face.

Scrunching up my face in pure annoyance, I reply, "Hey, uh, Officer." With a fake smile and slight wave.

Ugh, now this perv is checking me out, so I clear my throat to gain his full attention. That's right, buddy, eyes up here. "So, um, what's going on in there?" I query pointing to the building where a cop has just emerged carrying a clear plastic zip up bag with white pills... Fuck!

"Well I really shouldn't be divulging that kind of information, but as its you, Katherine." He sighs with a lecherous grin. Yuck, this fossil is old enough to be my Grandpa. "We received an anonymous tip off, seems that a notorious drug dealer lived on these premises. To think we would have never caught Douglas O'Donnell if it hadn't been for the quick thinking of a member of the public, I'd like to shake his hand, a real Samaritan..."

"He?" I probe with an absolute scowl.

"Oh, yeah, the caller was male. We traced the call to a pay phone outside of that store of yours, Joe's Smoke Shop. Sure we went in and asked Joe if he'd seen anyone. He said there was a guy, tall, unruly hair with a bike. He couldn't make anything else out, too dark and his eye sight wasn't what it used to be..."

Oh. No. He. Didn't.

Officer What's-His-Face is interrupted by a collection of furious bellows coming from the entrance of the apartment block as Doug is led out in handcuffs. He almost stumbles as he sees me standing here but he fixates his glare purely on my face. The left side of his own face looks pretty banged up, covered with bruises and cuts. I receive one more vicious glare as he's shut in the cop car and driven away.

"What the hell happened to his face? Have you ever heard of cop brutality?" I demand through clenched teeth.

"Good God, Katherine, our commissioner runs a tight ship and we're certainly not common thugs!"

They might not be but I know someone who is. How could he do this to me? I told him to stay out my life and this is what he does? Fucking hell, I was going to apologise to the, the...I can't even think of a word bad enough to describe him.

I've had it, why do I even bother?... Ugh, I'll kill him but I need a drink, I really, really, positively need a drink. Yeah, a drink first and then... Oh, who cares.

I push my way through the crowds once again, ignoring the calls of Officer What's-His-Face, I've just got to get my hands on a bottle of Vodka. The alcohol is the only thing that will make the pain go away.


	10. Devil In Her Heart

_**Thanks to noro for the review :)

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**Devil In Her Heart

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A graveyard wouldn't be my usual choice of a drinking spot but I'd say that its currently fulfilling all my needs. Its dreary, oppressive, deserted and full of dead people, what more could a girl ask for. Actually if its not too much trouble, I want my life back. Is there a mutant out there who can turn back time, if so please point me in their direction.

I've well and truly hit rock bottom and I don't have the strength to pull myself up or dust myself off, I'm an absolute mess and I couldn't give a flying fuck. So what if I drink the occasional bottle because it prevents me from having an emotional, nervous breakdown. For a few drunken hours I'm able to block out the pain and the drugs, well its just a bit of fun, isn't it?

Its not like I'm harming anyone. I'm not about to pick my life apart and study each section with morbid curiosity until I find out where the blame lies, I think I'm beyond that now. As I sit here on the rickety bench overlooking the tired graves, its as if they're taunting me, calling me out on my naive belief that I could ever have a pleasant life.

I'm so close to shutting down emotionally and giving up completely, I don't want to have to fight my inner demons all alone but what choice do I have; I am alone.

Taking a rather repulsive gulp from the bottle of Vodka I'm clutching in my frigid fingers, I decide that with the alcohol now pounding through my veins it would be the ideal time to confront Wolverine. Struggling to stand in an upright position I cast one more forlorn look at my sombre surroundings. I can't seem to throw off the feeling that I too might be pushing up daisies in a matter of days.

Hell, at least I took the time to get to know the neighbours.

Walking with purpose, although with a slight stagger, wobble and trip every minute or so, I find myself in one piece beside the mansions garage. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce you to my favourite scrap of shrubbery, why I hear you cry. Well its simple really, this bush has a secret that only I'm aware of. This is where I hide all those perverse little items I own that I really don't want found or sniffed out.

This is where my almost empty bottle is going to live, alongside my extensive quantity of pot and rather pathetic collection of pills that are buried in a tin container.

You never know when you might need a slight pick me up and with that, its on with the show!

Now if I was a Wolverine where would I be? Yes, I'm sure you all have your own suggestions but my muddled brain is telling me to ask that new guy playing a game of pool alone in the Rec room.

Leaning on the door to stop my knees from buckling I struggle to remember his damn name, um...it begins me a 'G' I think or was that an 'R'?

I plaster a seductive smile on my lips and saunter over to him hips swinging, "Hey, you!" I holler waving a hand at him. "Have you seen Wolvie?"

The guy with no name tosses me a smirk and brushes his straggling hair out of his eyes.

"Y'started de party without me again, Chere?" He responds while his eyes drink in my body with astonishment and a hint of satisfaction.

"Oh, stop looking at me like that, Gambler." Yeah, that's his name, you see it was on the tip of my tongue. "Just tell me where he is!" I stamp my foot in anger showing him that I'm deadly serious. Nope, don't you dare mess with the Rogue today, you're likely to get your balls cut off and fed to you for brunch.

"Y'Wolvie be in de Danger room an' its Gambit. Though a pretty_ fille_ such as yourself can call me Remy." He answers seductively with a hungry smile and a bow.

I roll my eyes in utter boredom. Does this guy ever stop? He's been chasing everything in a skirt since his arrival. Remy has dated every female in the fucking mansion except me and Storm, even Jubilee went out with him.

"Yeah, yeah, Gambler, maybe later." I give him a flirtatious wink and a shake of my booty and leave him alone with his fucked up and purely misplaced erotic fantasies, that and his hand.

* * *

I'm slowly making my way to the lower levels, hugging the walls for support. I mean, come on, why the hell do I keep tripping over my own feet? Its either that or I'm falling over air.

Fucking hell I need more to drink, maybe then I'd remember how to walk. You know it does look easy but when it comes down to the actual moving my legs part, its harder then it looks. I'm starting to question the sanity of Victoria Beckham, how the fuck does she wear high heels every fucking day?

Thankfully I soon find myself outside the Danger Room door without being too battered and bruised. I spot the little red light letting me know that a class is in session. The new and improved Rogue doesn't conform to the rules and regulations any longer, so I'll just open the door and walk right in. Who gives a shit what I'm interrupting, I certainly don't.

Standing in the vast, open space, I'm faced with the younger members of the X-men team suited and booted for a training session no doubt. I suddenly giggle quietly to myself, struggling to gain my composure. Did I really look _that_ ridiculous dressed in all the leather?

Jesus, it looks like I've stepped into a shitty porn flick as I catch sight of Bobby laying on top of Kitty. I wonder if Professor X had a secret fetish for leather?

I'm standing albeit slightly cocky a foot from the entrance daring anyone to make a comment as I receive a number of mixed glances ranging from shocked, admiring and repulsed.

"Roguey, you look stunning!" Jubilee screeches rushing over to me as she helpfully points out the ladder in my stockings and scolds me on my apparent clumsiness.

Completely ignoring her and let me tell you now, that is no light feat, I search the room for Logan but I see no sign of him, damn it. I fix my glare on Bobby instead. I know he's itching to lecture me, he's positively hopping from foot to foot in anticipation.

To my surprise though its not Bobby that has the gall to open his mouth, its Kitty fucking boyfriend stealing Pryde.

"Rogue, can't you see we're in the middle of a training session?" She grumbles taking a step towards me.

Taking a deep breath and vowing not to punch her lights out, I reply in the calmest manner I can muster, "I just need to see Logan, don't worry I'll be out your hair soon. So where the hell is he?"

Tossing a fleeting look at Bobby she takes her time answering "He popped out for a few minutes."

Fucking typical, when I want to actually find Logan he's nowhere to be seen and when I don't want him anywhere near me he's stuck to my fucking side.

"Fine, I'll just wait then, so how have you both been? Its been a while since our last little chat hasn't it?" I lay the sarcasm on so thick there, even I'm inwardly cringing at my total lack of tact.

"Last little chat?" Bobby repeats as miffed as hell. "You hit me!"

"I should have hit you harder and it wouldn't have happened if you'd kept your dick in your pants!" I shriek with pure venom, the drink cheering me on.

"Oh, please, can you blame me? You're a mess, Rogue, look at you. she's drunk again ,look at her, Kitty."

I'm going to rip his fucking head off and take a shit down his throat if he makes one more comment like that. I might be drunk, but I still have feelings.

"Keep talking, shit head..." I snarl taking two more menacing steps.

"Rogue, you need to leave or this is going to get out of hand again. You overstepped the mark last time." Kitty must have lost the last of her common sense while fucking my ex boyfriend senseless because she's trying to usher me out of the Danger Room, hand gestures and all. Personally I know what hand gesture I'd like to show her.

"Are you out of your ever loving mind! You slept with _my_ boyfriend! I should have kicked your ass into next week. Now back the fuck off bitch, before I really lose it."

I can feel my body shaking with rage and the tramp smirks, she smirks at me and opens that trap of hers once again.

"Really, I'd like to see _you_ try."

And that's all it takes. I snap with my animalistic side throwing itself to the forefront of my mind. Even after the cure I still have snippets of behaviour stored in my head and I'd say that I'm currently overcome with Wolverine's rage.

With an infuriated howl I launch myself at Kitty with the hopes of wiping that smirk off her smug face. To my surprise she doesn't phase and I'm able to grasp fistfuls of her hair while landing a few heavy blows to her head.

"Kitty, phase!" I hear Bobby instruct.

"No, I can take her..." Kitty hisses.

Oh, she thinks she can, does she? I don't need to be a mutant to win this fight. Her nails scratch at my face digging into flesh but I pay no mind, I'm fuelled by pure fury. We both fall to the ground and I seize my chance for vengeance. I wrap my hands around her throat and begin throttling the life out of her, keeping eye contact I see her eyes widen with fear but I still don't stop. Every emotion I've felt over the past four months I convert into my frenzied act of violence. Bobby screams for us to stop and charges over but someone reaches us before he has a chance.

I feel a strong set of arms wrap themselves around my middle and wretch me off my terrified victim and I kick and scream like a wild cat trying to escape. I watch as Bobby shuffles over to a heavily wheezing Kitty and I feel even more enraged as he hugs her in relief. I continue fighting my enforcer as they propel me towards the exit with a brutal shove and I catch sight of the thunderous look on Logan's face as he frog marches me to the door.

If I was sober and nowhere near as angry, I'd probably be quaking in my stilettos right now but this shit is pissing me off more so.

"What the hell did you think you were doin', were you tryin' to kill her!" Logan demands gruffly his face inches from mine and his body crowding my personal space.

"Me? She started it!" I bellow throwing my arms in the air and gesturing wildly.

"I don't give a shit who started it, I'm finishin' it. Now get the hell outta my sight!"

"No, you listen to me you asshole. Do you even care what happened to Doug? I told you to stay out of my life! You told me yourself that you weren't _my_ father!" I clear my throat and break out my best Logan impression, "I'm not your father, I'm your friend." I mimic crudely. "So stop acting like it! It was none of _your_ fucking business what the hell I was doing, so for the hundredth time keep your fucking nose out!"

Logan stands there for a full thirty seconds with his head down and my words practically ringing in his ears. I think I've shocked him into silence. I've never dared speak to him like that before, sure I've yelled but never blatantly cussed his ass. Well not to his face, hearing distance or even in the same building as him. You can never be too careful and freak accidents with claws can happen.

His head shoots up and he snarls looking every bit his name sake "Excuse me?"

I feel the last of my drunken courage disappear in a whiff of unadulterated horror. Holy shit, I'm going to die by clawing. The coroner's going to need eight separate bags for my remains and he's going to have to scoop me up.

"You _ever_ speak to me like that again and you won't be sittin' down for a month of Sundays, got that?" I nod my head numbly not trusting myself to speak. "That piece of shit got what was comin' to him, his ass can rot in jail for all I care." Logan grunts never taking his piercing glare away from my eyes.

He roughly rubs his jaw with his hand and casts a dark look at my outfit. "You look like a fuckin' hooker." I don't dare tell him that was the look I was aiming for. "Jesus Christ, Marie, where's the rest of your damn clothes? Go change and while you're at it you can sleep off the booze. Come find me when you grow up and get a fuckin' clue!" Logan barks and stomps into the Danger Room leaving me alone in the corridor alone with a bitter aftertaste in my mouth.


	11. Ain't It Fun

_**A huge thanks to noro, RogueNya and darkfantasy16 for the reviews :) I'm always surprised that I receive any at all!**_

_**noro - You're so sweet, here's the next chapter.**_

_**RogueNya - Yeah I would have left to but some do care, I think she's just too far gone to notice or even care herself. Nope no hanky panky with Logan in this story LOL, you're right she is too young. But Gambit...maybe if she gets the chance, although she might possibly be a little to screwed up at the moment for any serious relationship. I like Rogue and Gambit together though :) Shame we didn't get to see that in the films!**_

_**And last but not least darkfantasy16 - Long review! I just love drama and I felt the need to turn Rogue's life into a total soap opera. The 'Gambler' part, most people when they're drunk struggle to remember the simplest of names, I know I do ;) The 1st chapter needed sorting out, I've been putting it off for ages! Actually I don't think I've ever read a fic where Rogue's been happy about taking the cure either, she usually regrets it. I don't think she should regret the fact that she took it in this story, just maybe some of her actions. But what made Rogue's attitude change so drastically over the four months? Well you'll just have to wait and see :P I've come up with a few ideas and I'm sure the Bobby/Kitty thing didn't help matters.**_

_**Oh, and I suppose I should mention that Gambit and Logan have no prior history in this fic. If you've seen Origins you'll know what I'm on about and if you haven't, then why the hell not?**_

_**Warning - Following chapter includes self harming.

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**Ain't It Fun**

_Ain't it fun when your friends despise what you become _

_- Guns N Roses

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_

Grumble, grumble, stomp, stomp, stomp, grumble, grumble, _CRASH_...

The antique mirror that Jubilee scoured the depths of the Internet for shatters and litters our bedroom floor with umpteen pieces of glass. I guess punching a mirror, a one of a kind irreplaceable mirror isn't such a good idea, especially if you despise the thought of cleaning up after yourself.

I glance down at my fist to inspect the damage but all I see are a small number of cuts across the knuckles and that for some unknown reason annoys the hell out of me. I'm absolutely seething, I can feel my stomach churning with sheer resentment. More then anything I'd like to hunt down Kitty for round two but I heard the Blackbird takeoff about an hour ago. The bitch has certainly left her mark, fucking scratches on my cheek but we all know don't we ladies, that concealer is a girls best friend, that and a bottle of liquor.

The last of the evening light pours into my room and the bouncing rays of winter sunshine cause the shards of glass to shimmer, glisten and glow. The sight is somewhat striking and I find myself unable to tear my eyes away from a singular fragment of glass, is that the answer to my deep rooted problems?

Stepping towards the object of my fascination I crouch downward and without a second thought I pick the piece of glass up, press it against the exposed skin of my arm and drag.

Twenty minutes later I'm left with a bloody arm and a whole lot less anger and emotional pain, no I'm feeling relief. I'm relived that I'm finally feeling something other than the emptiness or my usual depression. Its been over two months since I last resorted to self inflicted pain as a means to cope. I thought the drink and drugs would be enough to tame my destructive tendencies but as usual those thoughts were misguided.

Dressed in a pair of worn black denim jeans and a purple vest top I walk to the wardrobe and release a sharp hiss as I slip on a green hooded sweatshirt to hide the visible gashes.

Gazing at the destruction around me I smirk in anticipation of all the mischief I can get into while the others are away on a mission; when the X-Men are away the Rogue will play.

* * *

"Damn, fuck, shit!" I cry in frustration as I try to shimmy the lock open on the drinks cabinet in Storm's office.

Who in their right mind locks a drinks cabinet, its not exactly hospitable is it? What the hell kind of wood is this made of anyway. I growl as I attack the glorified cupboard with a screwdriver I stole from the garage. I've already finished off the last of my Vodka and I can't find hide nor hair of Logan's stash of booze. So I had to make do with popping one brightly coloured pill and smoking half a poorly rolled joint. The rest of the shit has been hastily shoved in my jeans pocket for later use, now if only I can get this fucking door open.

"Need help, Chere?" The unexpected voice sends me nearly five foot in the air in shock and causes me to scrape the skin off of the side of my thumb with the fucking screwdriver.

"Jesus," I groan sucking my thumb free of the blood. Turning to face an amused Gambit, I scowl. "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be on a mission,"

He walks further into the room and leans lazily against the desk, hands at his side.

"Wolverine don' trust Gambit" He replies his face losing all signs of his previous light heartedness as he reaches in his pocket blindly and produces a deck of cards, that he shuffles with mild agitation.

My face softens as I take in the pathetic sight before me, I've never seen him look so downcast. "Don't worry about it, he's like that with everyone, that's just how Logan is."

Gambit smiles slightly and nods his head towards the cabinet. "Need help wit' dat?"

"No, Swamp rat, its my loot and I don't share." I sigh eyeing the soon to be heap of fire wood. I've certainly worked up a sweat for the damn drink and if I ever do pry the lock open, I'm going to allow myself to drown in the alcohol tonight.

"Your mama never teach y'to share, River rat?" Gambit asks standing up and striding towards me.

Before I even have time to argue over the fact that he just called me a rat of all things, he's digging in his pockets and pulls out a lock pick.

"Never leave home without one."

And in five seconds flat I hear a faint click and the cabinet door swings open displaying a meagre three large bottles of Whiskey. Oh, and I was hoping for more as Gambit hands me a bottle of Southern Comfort. Well you can take the girl out of the south but never the south out of the girl.

* * *

Drunkenly giggling at Remy's latest anecdote I knock over my tenth shot of whiskey as I struggle to stand upright. I'm starting to feel really hungry but that might just be the pot. The pill has taken affect to as I watch the shadows creep up the kitchen wall with some kind of mild obsession for all things, well shadow like.

"Whoa, Chere, take it easy." Gambit instructs as he leaps up and guides me gently back to my seat. He sits opposite me at the kitchen table as I dip my hand in the spoilt Whiskey and lick it off the tip of my fingers.

His eyes narrow at my demonstration and he licks his lips. Admittedly I've always seen Gambit as a pain in the ass but at this precise moment I'm liking what I see. A sudden thought flashes through my mind and my brain jumps for joy telling me to go for it, to hell with the consequences when sober.

I stand and mosey on over to him with my hips once again swinging from side to side and his jaw literally drops as I straddle his lap and trace my hands down his chest feeling every muscle ripple with each lingering touch. He opens his mouth to speak but I place a finger on his lips and hush him. As I continue my exploration of his well sculpted body, he gasps as I stroke over his more intimate areas and shifts under my weight.

"Chere, not dat Gambit ain't enjoyin' dis but maybe when y'sober..."

Oh fuck that, I'm sober...ish... Well, enough to know what I want anyway and this is something I definitely want.

I plant my lips harshly against his and let my tongue explore his mouth. Feel his body start to react against mine until, I smirk against his lips but the spell is broken by a rude and seriously unwanted interruption in the shape of a rather distressed and shocked Jubilee.

"Roguey, what the freakin' hell happened to our..." She stops mid sentence and stares at us in amazement. "How, how could you? You knew that I, well I... You knew!" She cries melodramatically pointing her finger at me, well at me or Gambit. Shit, you try drinking all that then keeping track of the yellow ones emotions. Its enough to give you a rampaging headache and drive you to more drink.

Gambit opens his lips to respond but I hush him again and turn my head to Jubes.

"Huh?" I question swaying on Remy's lap.

"I liked him, Rogue..." She whispers tears pouring down her cheeks.

"Don't worry, Jubes, we can share him" I snap. "You wouldn't mind would you Remy?" I coo stroking his face.

"What happened to you, Rogue?"

"What's happened to _me_? What the fuck happened to _you_, where's your sense of adventure gone? I know how, about a threesome?" Grinding into Gambit's lap he whimpers in delight and I snort. Yep, I'd say he's up for it alright.

Jubilee stands rooted to the spot shell shocked for a moment or two refusing to meet my inquiring gaze and in a blubbering mess she races out of the kitchen. She didn't even answer my question, how inconsiderate of her and to think that I called her my best friend, well fuck her.

"Don' y'think y'should go after her, Chere?"

Hmm, oh yeah, Gambit. How could I forget there's a man between my thighs?

"No, no, no, no." I moan into his ear huskily. "Later, now where was I?" I ask with a lick of his earlobe and as Remy's hand travels under my top the kitchen door swings open again.

Damn it, can't a girl get any pleasure in peace?

"What on earth was the matter with Jubilee? I've never seen her so..." Storm also stops in her tracks in what I can only assume as utter astonishment.

I don't see the problem, we're only making out, would anyone like to fill me in on the God damn problem? I'm about to make a smart ass comment to Storm when I detect a bristling and prickly looking Logan at her side, glaring at us both with his nostrils flaring.

Remy gulps and his hand shoots out from under my top. I can almost hear the cogs turning in Logan's head as he puts two and two together as he continues to inhale the scents and prolonged tang of lust. Not wanting to have the Swamp rat's death on my conscience I attempt to wriggle out of his lap but that causes Remy to groan out loud in pleasure and I tumble face first onto the kitchen floor in a drunken and thoroughly stoned heap at their feet.

Attempting to roll over or even move in anyway, I find that I can't. My body refuses to respond so I sigh dramatically and wish I could melt into the floor, well after another few shots of Southern Comfort, you never know.

I overhear a _Snikt_ and a roar from Wolverine accompanied by a scream from Ororo and a lot of fast talking from Gambit's direction. My face only cools on the cold tiled floor.

"Logan, no!" Storm shrieks as I hear a rumble of thunder.

"It ain't what it looks like, Gambit an' de Chere were just sayin' hello..."

"It looked to me Gumbo like you were takin' advantage." Logan growls as his heavy boots pound against the floor past my left ear.

"Non, Gambit don' need t'liquor his women." Remy announces smugly, "Dey fall at his feet."

"Remy leave now, I'll handle this."

I nod my head in a dream like state agreeing with Storm and I hear Remy leave the room without a fight or a goodbye.

"Ro'!"

"Do you really think Remy's completely at fault here, Logan?"

And I nod my head yet again. Yes, I do if it saves me from a dressing down. I giggle at my choice of words. If they had arrived ten minutes later I would have been dressed down.

"I suggest we deal with Rogue or didn't you notice her less than sober state on the floor?"

"I'll sort her out, Ro', you go hit the sack." Logan grunts, his boots coming to a stop by my ears again.

No Storm, don't leave me, I plead in my head but she agrees and leaves me alone with my sniffing executioner.

"I can smell dried blood, what the hell have you been doin' now, kid?"

I groan as he crouches beside me and flips me over onto my back, and God, does he looks pissed at me. He brushes the hair from my face and casts a dark glimpse at my pinned pupils. "What else did you take? I can smell the pot and booze a mile off." I smile thoughtfully as I try to remember but the answer eludes me. He shakes his head and starts checking my body for any apparent injury as I try to crawl away from his reach.

"Oh, no you don't." Logan mutters pulling me back with a hand around my ankle. "Fuckin' hell!" He bellows as he uncovers the weeping mass of cuts on my arm. "This stops now, Kid, you're done."

Rubbing a hand over his tired face he forcefully snaps my chin up so our eyes meet. "I should have done this weeks ago. You might be as pissed as hell at me in the mornin' but this is for your own good." Logan stands upright and eyes my wasted and gaunt frame. "Time for a road trip." And that's the last thing I hear as my eyes slowly close and I fall into a dreamless sleep.


	12. Life Is Hell

_**Thank you to noro, Brit-Babe191 and RogueNya for the lovely reviews :)**_

_**noro - Here's the next chapter and already working on the next one.**_

_**Brit-Babe191 - Yep, finally got to the road trip! And had to have some darker Rogue too, she's great.**_

_**RogueNya - Oh, I'm sure they'll both be butting heads for quite a while to come yet ;) Its just a shame I had to drag her away from Gambit.**_

_**It took me a while to write this chapter and I'm hoping I got it just right :)

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**Life Is Hell

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**

"Ugh…" What the hell did I do last night? On second thoughts I don't think I want to know and my damn head is killing me. I know I've said this before but I'm never drinking again.

Has my bed always been this uncomfortable and why the hell would Jubilee open the curtains? She must know that I'm in dire need of my beauty sleep. Wait a fucking minute, is my bed moving?

Cracking open a lazy eyelid my brain screams in protest at the unrelenting sunlight and I groan in absolute horror when I realize my bed _is_ moving. Christ, I'm in a car, what the fuck went on last night?

I feel as though I could break down and cry as I struggle to sit up. All I want to do is find my bed and sleep for the next week or so but no, I'm in some car in God knows where with God knows who.

This must be someone's idea of a joke. Well, I don't find this amusing and I'm going to tell them so. Gazing at the figure in the drivers seat, I chew my bottom nervously and the numerous insults die in my throat.

This can't be happening, whatever I took last night has obviously sent me over the edge. Yep, I'm in Cuckoo land. I've lost my fucking marbles… There's a hole in my head and my brain has left in search of a safe haven.

There's no way he would ...He can't have just... What the fuck was going through his head when he made _this_ decision?

"Bout' time you woke, Kid." Logan grunts from the front seat.

I fall back onto the my makeshift bed and pull my coat over my head trying to block out the sunlight.

"Logaaaaaan," I groan into the fabric.

Maybe this is a nightmare? Yeah, its a possibility. I'm still at the mansion passed out in my bed and I'm going to wake up… NOW! I pinch myself and peek out from under my coat. CRAP. That really didn't turn out how I'd expected it to.

"Bet you've got one hell of a hangover, huh? Guess you won't be drinkin' like that again."

Did he just snort at me? I can't deal with this shit in my current condition.

"Take me back to the mansion, Logan." I whisper trying to control the urge to throttle him. That will have to wait until later in the day. I seem to be rather under the weather at the moment.

"No can do." He replies, the smell of cigar smoke wafting under the coat.

What the hell happened last night to make him act like this?

"Why?" I squawk sitting up so fast I groan in a nauseating daze.

"Told you last night."

I don't remember much of last nights activities, so the idiot is going to have to explain the situation for once in his life.

"Was I even conscious at the time?" I ask already knowing the answer. This is not something I would have agreed to; well, whatever this is.

"Not my problem you have selective hearin'." Logan grumbles.

Selective hearing he says, selective hearing my ass.

"I was drunk!" I cry immediately regretting it. I think I'm going to spew. Stupid, stupid, stupid alcohol.

"Among other things." He mutters eyeing me in the rear-view mirror. "You're lookin' a little green around the gills, kid."

"Ugh, I think I'm going to..." I throw my hand over my mouth and clutch my gurgling stomach.

"Just don't do it in the damn car or you'll be cleanin' it up."

Logan slowly pulls the car to a halt, parking beside a derelict gas station and diner. No, don't even think about food. Sausage, bacon, eggs, pancakes, maple syrup... Shit!

I fling the car door open and bound out of the car into the biting morning air and stagger across the grass over to an ancient oak tree. Silently apologising to the poor old tree for what I'm about to do, I fall to my knees and spew yesterdays liquid based breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I'm never ever drinking again.

Whenever I was physically sick my mom would always be beside me holding my hand and brushing the hair out of my face, its time like these that I really do miss her.

Turning to glance over my shoulder, I spot Logan leaning against the car, cigar in hand and an enormous fucking smirk on his face, the bastard.

"Think this is funny, do you?" I groan, retching again. Jesus how much did I drink last night?

"Yeah, in fact, I do. Have you learnt your lesson yet?"

If I wasn't busy throwing my guts up I would have told him where to go but... Ugh, I want my mama.

"Figured we'd drive around for a bit, stop off at a few motels. I could do some cage fightin', then I guess we'd head to Canada, gotta' cabin over that way."

Stumbling to my feet and still wondering what on earth I got up to last night, I traipse back to the car. I just want my bed with the feather pillows...

"What?" I demand, wiping the vomit from my chin with the back of my hand. "Are you telling me that we're not going back to the mansion?" I ask standing stone cold sober and frozen to the spot on the grass.

"Yep." He replies taking a lazy drag of his cigar.

"Let me get this straight, me and you, we're not going back to the mansion anytime soon, like today?"

"Nope."

This has to be about last night. What did I get up to last night?

"And why the fuck not?" I yell as I begin to take a step backwards in the direction of the woods.

"Marie..." Logan warns but there is no way I'm listening to him this time. Not a fucking chance, no I need to get out of here. Get out of here and back to the mansion. How though? I guess I could hitchhike, it would be like the old days.

He opens his mouth to say something and I take that as my cue to bolt. Sprinting towards the woods with a burst of Adrenalin coursing through my body, I have one thought going through my mind: I won't let him.

So engrossed in chanting the words repeatedly in my head, I don't hear the lumbering footsteps behind me until its too late and a forceful arm is wrapped around my middle along with a harsh voice ordering me to stop.

I can feel the self inflicted wounds reopening on my barely healed arm as I struggle to lurch forward out of the tight grip. "Get off!" I scream clawing at Logan's arm.

"Can it, kid, you're just makin' things worse for yourself." Exhausted I stop fighting against Logan and his arm goes slack around my waist. "Now get that ass of yours back to the car." He commands gruffly, fishing in his pocket for his unfinished cigar and relighting it.

"Not until you agree to take me back to the mansion." I challenge him sullenly, leaning against a tree with my arms crossed.

There is no way I'm moving from this spot until he agrees, I'll camp out here in a snow storm if I have to. He cocks his eyebrow permitting me a chance to change my mind but I refuse to acknowledge the gesture.

"Not happenin', so move it." Logan growls. I grin smugly at him knowing that there is nothing he can do if I refuse to obey him. "Now!" He barks.

"Nope, you can't just kidnap we without an explanation."

"I didn't kidnap..."

"Yes. You. Did!" I spit back, the taste of vomit still present in my mouth. "In my book dragging a person away from their home in the middle of the night without their permission is deemed as kidnapping."

"I ain't talkin' about this shit out here, I'm freezin' my balls off. You either start walkin' or I'll drag you back. Your choice, so pick one."

"I'm not leaving and you lay a finger on me and I'll scream." I splutter, silently doubting that he's taking my threats seriously. He sighs deeply to himself and crushes his cigar under his boot "I mean it, Logan, I'm staying right…"

I never get a chance to finish my sentence as he stomps towards me, sweeps me clean off my feet with ease and heaves me over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes.

I pound my fists against his back enraged as I scream at the top of my lungs but he tunes out my tantrum and carries on walking like he's taking a leisurely morning stroll without a care in the world.

As we arrive at the car, he opens the door and unceremoniously dumps me on the back seat non to gently and attempts to shut the door on my face.

No fucking way is he shutting me in here...

I scramble to reach the open door and kick my legs at him attempting to boot him in the family jewels area and almost succeeding if his face is anything to go by.

"Try that again and you've had it." He threatens his brow wrinkled in anger and slams the door shut with such force, the car shakes.

I watch him through the window as he paces back and forth obviously trying his hardest to cool down. It takes him twenty five minutes and three cigars until he's calm enough to come back to the car and even then I can still hear the occasional growl.

What did I ever do to deserve this? I thought I getting on just fine at the mansion and for once in my life I was having fun. I wasn't leaning on anyone else with my problems, I was sorting them out my own way and I was doing what was best for me.

I'm starting to think I over exerted myself out there because I feel as though I'm about to do another Technicolor yawn as an encore. I'm never ever, ever, ever, ever drinking again.

Before I can tell Logan to stop the car, I vomit with such velocity and momentum that I'm sure I've just expelled a number of relevant organs in the process. I whine as I curl up into a ball and take cover under my coat.

"Kid!"

* * *

"Come on, up."

Opening my eyes, I hope to God that was all just a dream but no, I'm still in the car with Logan grumbling at me to get my ass up.

Sitting up and stretching my arms, I gaze out the window and see that he's stopped at a road side diner. The last thing I want to do is eat, I'm pretty sure my stomach has gone on strike. After I threw up the last of my stomachs contents Logan made me clean up the mess with an old cloth, of course that made me feel even fucking worse and Wolverine wasn't too chuffed with me either.

Apparently the stench of it was driving him to the brink of destruction so he had to wind down all the windows and drive down the highway in Arctic fucking conditions. I don't think I've ever been so cold in all my life, we had snow flakes falling through the sun roof.

"I'm not hungry." I declare not wanting to sit in a crowded diner with a pissed off Logan.

"Don't care, out."

Rolling my eyes, I step out of the car and drag my feet to the entrance sulking all the way. I couldn't care less if I'm acting like a little kid, this just really isn't my day, hell it hasn't been my week or my month, come to think about it the past few years haven't been anything to sing about. Now if I carry on with this train of thought I'm going to be hankering to slit my wrists and just be done with this life.

Sitting down with a resounding huff in my chosen booth, I sit by the window and hug my knees to my chest, ignoring the preppy, blond waitress whose trying to gain my attention, hovering around like a bad smell.

Logan stalks in minutes later and sits opposite me with a cigar already in hand, does the guy ever stop? Surely I'll be dead in a matter of years from second hand smoke.

"Give me the rare steak, double fries and a beer. Get the kid the triple cheeseburger, double fries and a coke." Logan tells the ogling waitress gruffly as he lights his cigar.

"I said I'm not hungry." I turn to the waitress about to tell her not to bother.

"And I said I don't care." He also turns to the waitress and dismisses her with a wave.

"Maybe you should listen to your dad, sweetie." She utters in a soft spoken voice as she leaves. Sweetie? The little cow can't be much older than me. I let the dad comment slide over my head because I've never seen Logan as my father figure. He's more a grumpy, growling friend that you're never able to take anywhere in case he guts people.

"You gonna sulk all day?"

I don't even glance at him as I continue staring out the window watching a family of four climbing out of their car.

"I'm not sulking" I snap back.

"Yeah, you are, Marie. You're actin' like a spoilt brat."

I might well be, but I won't admit it, certainly not in present company. I know I can be annoyingly hostile and at other times a sulking brat with an attitude. I don't need to be reminded of that. Logan likes to remind people of their faults though, I think it's a power thing.

"I have every right to be angry. You kidnapped me and now you're holding me against my will."

Sighing and brushing a hand loosely through his hair, he slouches in his chair and looks slightly apprehensive. "Kid, you're a mess." That's exactly what Bobby said. "If you carry on doin' what you're doin', you'll end up dead by the end of the year."

I tut loudly at his choice of words. "Don't be so dramatic," I hiss. "I was only drinking a little and having fun. You're acting as if I'm some stark raving loony with an out of control drinking problem." I cry pounding my fists on the table.

Our conversation is interrupted by Blondie carrying our drinks over.

"Oh, sweetie, don't you think you're being a little hard on your dad there. I'm sure he's only doing what's best for you."

"You want some friendly advice, Barbie?" The waitress stands there slack jawed at my abrasiveness. "I suggest you don't listen in on other peoples conversations unless you want someone to fu..."

"Marie!" Logan barks angrily.

I turn back towards the window smirking at the distressed look Blondie has plastered on her face, that will teach her to eavesdrop in future.

"That weren't necessary, kid."

"Yeah, it was." I scoff as I watch her walk away.

"What the hell happened to you? When I left, I thought you were happy." I deliberately ignore his question and play with my straw, blowing bubbles in the soda. "Well?"

"Well, what?" I respond, shooting him a glare.

"Don't play dumb, it don't suit you." He says gruffly nursing his beer.

I watch him take a large gulp of his beer wishing I could have a sip. Now my hangover has vanished for the day, I'm in the mood for some alcohol induced fun.

"I'm not, its just none of your business."

"Like hell it ain't, I made a promise to a girl once."

Glancing at Logan, I think back to the night on the train and how scared and alone I felt. What a crock of shit that was.

"I told you before, I don't need you, I don't need anyone. I certainly didn't need to be kidnapped again. You know having tried the whole abduction thing before I decided at the time it really wasn't my cup of tea."

"God damn it, Marie, this ain't a joke!" Logan snarls finishing off the rest of his beer and slamming the empty bottle down.

"Isn't it?" I pout.

"Keep this shit up all you want, but neither of us are goin' nowhere..."

"I don't think Barbie would like that. This place isn't open twenty four hours, is it?"

"Jesus Christ, were you always this difficult?" He asks genuinely interested in his own question.

"Only after I absorbed your powers for the second time." I smile at the thought of all the trouble I caused Scott and Jean. Poor Scott couldn't stand within ten feet of me without me wanting to fight, snarl or flirt with Jean in his presence.

"Yeah, Jeannie told me bout' that. Look, all I'm sayin', kid, is that you needed a break. You can't keep drinkin' like that or doin' those other things, it ain't healthy. I'm not gonna lose someone else I care about."

Why does it always come down to emotional blackmail? I refuse to meet his gaze as he awaits a reply. He's not going to like anything I have to say and my minds on the X-Men members we lost. I miss them so much sometimes, it hurts worse then the heartbreak.

"I won't let you." I mutter under my breath, eyes fixed on the table.

"Let me what?" Logan asks sounding skeptical.

"You want to change me and I won't let you. I like who I am."

Okay that's a lie but I don't want to change. I enjoy drinking and getting high and no one will take that away from me. Not him, not the ghosts of the friends we lost and not the newly incarcerated Doug. Nobody.

He snorts at my statement not believing a word I just uttered. "Yeah, sure you do, but I'm tellin' you you've gotta change and I ain't the only one."

Like I give a shit what other people think about me. I don't even think I care what Logan has to say anymore.

Blondie puts our plates of food down without a word, deliberately ignoring me and smiles in my companion's direction but her flirting is cut short as she's called to help at another table. Serves the stupid, desperate bitch right.

"Why do you care if I drink? Other students were doing it at the mansion all the time and you didn't care then."

I push my fries around the plate with a fork, not really feeling in the mood to eat. Anyway Blondie probably spat on my food, she looks the type.

"Cause' you're different." He grunts between a mouthful of steak.

How am I any different, I'm just another one of his reluctant students.

"Why?" I ask pressing the matter.

"You just are." Logan states looking up at me. "Stop playin' with your food and eat up. You're like a bag of bones, Kid."

Jesus, no wonder Blondie thought he was my dad if he keeps making comments along those lines.

I raise an eyebrow at his observation but he glances away. When has he had time to notice my weight loss? Apart from the arguments, we've hardly been in each others company since he returned.

Sighing, I pick up my triple cheeseburger and take a small bite out of it. Why do I have a niggling feeling this road trip is going to be anything but peaceful.


	13. I'm Down

_**Thanks to my usual little gang of reviewers RogueNya, Brit-Babe191, darkfantasy16 and NyahLi1 and to the new guys, rockout1 and Noci-chan.**_

_**RogueNya - You might think that things can only get better but around here we say things can only get worse. What can I say, I suppose us Brits are a bunch of pessimists! LOL**_

_**Brit-Babe191 - You and me both. Remember drinking's bad for you! ;) LMAO**_

_**rockout1 - Nope, no Logan and Rogue romance in this fic but I'm glad you're still enjoying it and I hope that doesn't put you off too much :) And thanks for putting this fic on your favourites list.**_

_**darkfantasy16 - Patience, you just need some patience! LOL Yeah I like to update often, helps that I'm getting encouraging reviews too. What must your neighbours think if you're squealing every time you check the net! :p**_

_**NyahLi1 - Two reviews! You should be ashamed of yourself...Nah, just kidding. Oh no I have been away, only for the weekend though, was able to post a chapter before I left and another one when I got back. I've never been so organised, quite scary when you think about it LOL. Its lovely to know that you've enjoyed the last four chapters. I've had fun writing the last few, especially the Gambit interaction in the kitchen. And another Beatles fan...Whoooo! What's your favourite album?**_

_**Aw, bless, hope your eldest had a great day and where's my cake? :P**_

_**I'm a fan of Logan road trips too and how could anyone not snap at Barbie. Oh Jubes! I almost forgot about her LOL. Yep Rogue's got a lot to make up for that will probably be mentioned in the next few chapters...now that you've reminded me!**_

_**Lucky you playing all your records, I've broken my bloody Ipod and I'm missing my music! and I'll hold you to that vow, review every chapter from now on! ;)**_

_**Noci-chan - Aw, thanks for the compliments. I prefer a bad girl Rogue, too. I mean there's nothing wrong with the sweet blushing Marie but I think it makes the story a lot more fun to read and write when she goes off the rails.**_

_**And be careful what you wish for, that might just be a possibility. I'll see what I can do. I'm writing these chapters from scratch now because I've run out of notes. I would never have guessed English was your second language until you mentioned it yourself and I checked out your profile. Let me put it this way...your English is a hell of a lot better than my Spanish! LOL **_

_**A shorter chapter this time and seriously angst ridden :(

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**I'm Down

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For the past three hours, twenty nine minutes and forty six seconds I've been giving Logan the silent treatment. He simply refuses to budge on the issue and I want to go back to the damn mansion. That stubborn hard headed, thick skulled asshole...

Just between you and me, I more then miss the taste of hard liquor, it's become like a drug to me. Eventually I gave up the childish assumptions and stopped believing that Logan would return and like a knight in shining armour save me from all that's wicked with the world. So I resorted to other methods to kill the pain, the old Marie would snivel, blither all her heart felt feelings out to anyone with a friendly ear, then probably beg on her hands and knees for help.

Thinking about it, I don't think she would ever have dared to numb the pain with booze in the first place, sure she was mouthy at times but I've morphed into a whole different being since then and with a hell of a lot more issues to deal with.

I hear the bathroom door open and out walks a topless but otherwise denim clad Logan. "Still sulkin?"

We arrived at a rather shitty motel an hour or so ago in a small town near the Canadian border. Logan wants to do his typical bad ass cage fighting act and I just want to be left alone to wallow and die in self pity.

"Fine, suit yourself." He grumbles when I refuse to answer him.

He digs around in his bag for clean clothes, choosing to wear a plaid shirt that reminds me of the lumberjack in the Monty Python sketch. Although I doubt you'd ever hear Logan admit to wearing women's clothing. Now you see there's a thought that is so ludicrous I should be wetting myself with laughter but I can't even crack a smile.

"Gotta go over some ground rules with you, kid, so listen up."

I groan in utter boredom and turn to face the opposite direction on the single bed I'm currently lounging on. I stare at the peeling paint on the wall wishing I was alone in a well stocked bar, oh God, anywhere but here.

"No boozin', no gettin' high, no wanderin' off... Hell, no runnin' and you stick close to me at the bar tonight."

Wait, he wants me to go to a bar with him tonight but not drink? Sit there and watch everyone else around me drink, but I'm not allowed a drink… Bullshit! "And do as your told. Follow those rules, toe the line and we won't have a problem."

"If this is some kind of intervention, you suck at it, Logan. In fact, I'd call it interfering." I huff into my pillow, its not a feather pillow though. Ha, maybe I am getting spoilt.

"So, she speaks."

Turning to face him with a glare that would surely scare the crap out of an average person, I wail, "Why have I got to go with you? I can just stay here, I'm perfectly capable of being left alone!"

"No way, don't trust you." He grunts taking a seat on the scruffy chair by the door. "Hit the shower, then change your clothes. I had the spark plug pack you some stuff."

"Are you saying I smell?" I demand, crawling off the bed to confront him.

"Marie, can't you just do somethin' without the arguing'?" Logan sighs scratching his mutton chops.

So he is saying I smell then? The fucking cheek of him.

"No I can't, who in their right mind would if it's their kidnapper that doesn't stop issuing the demands!" I shout, grabbing hold of my duffel bag, storming into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me.

Thirty minutes of constant showering and I'm still muttering obscenities. I honestly can't get my head around the circumstances I find myself in. I thought I had successfully pushed everyone away that cared and I was free to do as I please and now I feel as though I'm stuck in a maximum security jail.

"Kid, if you're tryin' to wash away all your sins, it ain't gonna work, so get a move on." Logan bellows through the locked door accompanied by a few hefty knocks.

"Don't get your panties in a twist!" I shriek adding a quietly mumbled "Asshole" under my breath not wanting to incur the wrath of a very pissed off Wolverine tonight. That and I remember the threat he snarled the last time I cussed his ass.

Shivering as I step out of the shower I reach for a towel and wrap it around my body and sit on the edge of the bath tub. Sighing to myself, I don't think I can handle the blatant offer of help that has been thrust in my face but I don't think I have a choice.

No, I always have a choice and I don't need the help. I couldn't give a flying fuck, I'm going to carry on drinking, getting high and...

Searching through my duffel, I just hope she packed...Yes. When I can't clear my head and I'm over run with thoughts I use my trusty razor blade as a remedy.

Throwing the bag back to the floor, I clasp the razor in my hand. Okay, so the blade is still attached but it will do the job. I can't go hacking it too pieces or Logan will hear.

Brushing a wrinkled hand over the inside of my left arm, I delicately examine the coarse and encrusted skin. I've left no room for another much needed session but I have plenty of willing skin. Gazing at my right arm with a small ruthless smile I start cutting.

"Open up, kid, I can smell the blood!"

The door rattles and I look up from my arm. Shit, why did it never cross my mind that Logan could smell blood. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I scramble to my feet trying to hide the evidence before... Shit! I hear a _Snikt _as a claw is released, the bathroom lock is sliced through and the door is flung open.

"Shit…" I hiss as I attempt to hide my bleeding arm behind my back and keep the towel securely wrapped around my body. The bloody razor has been hastily shoved in my bag.

"What the hell have you been doin' to yourself now?" He demands firmly, stepping over the threshold. His sharp glare sending shivers down my spine.

I take a deep breath but all I manage to whisper is, "Nothing"

"Don't give me that bullshit again," Logan growls stamping over to the corner I'm presently cowering in. When did I become such a wimp?

He stares down at me and I see a spark of concern in his brown eyes. I hate it when he does that, one caring look and I spill the beans. Without breaking eye contact, I show him my newest set of fucked up body art.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" He snarls seizing my shoulders and shaking me to the point of concussion.

"Nothing!" I cry once again, angry tears threatening to fall.

"I can't help you if you keep doin' this crazy shit! There ain't enough time in the day and I can't keep watch every damn minute."

"I don't want you to! How many times do I have to tell you I don't need your help."

"Yeah, it don't look that way to me." Logan murmurs darkly, pointing to the blood dripping down my arm. "You're insane, kid."

The tears fall as I hear Logan tell me what I've thought of myself all along. I'm mentally unsound, probably unfit to be around the normal people and that's why he's dragged me here, they don't want me at the mansion anymore. They now see me as a liability.

"I hate you," I whisper, chocking on the tears. "I fucking hate you!" I bawl in his face with such hatred I never knew I could possess.

Logan's eyes glaze over with clear inner turmoil as he sighs and walks out of the bathroom, picks up his leather jacket and leaves me all alone to deal with my meltdown.

I hear the car engine rumble to life and drive away as I sit back down on the tub and sob into my blood stained hands, I'm always alone.


	14. Wild Thing

_**RogueNya - Well they do say 'When the going gets tough, the tough get going'. But now I've got to find some way to redeem him. **_

_**NyahLi1 - Reading the chapter back is making me feel depressed! A Logan hug, I'll have to fit one in the story now just for you, LOL**_

_**I love the St Pepper album, first one I bought a few years back because I like the Lucy track.**_ _**That's the forth iPod I've gone and broken. I'm a walking disaster that's what I am.**_

_**Actually you would have gotten this chapter sooner but I found myself in the pub last night and felt a bit worse for wear this morning ;)**_ _**And I'll be waiting for the postman to deliver my cake, yum.**_

_**noro - Thanks and here's the chapter :)**_

**Rogue meets some of the locals in this chapter, although it has another angsty ending. You've been warned.

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**Wild Thing

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Once Logan had left I had two choices; go out find a bar and get absolutely paralytic or return to my razor. After giving it, oh, I don't know, lets say thirty seconds thought, I decided I had already missed hours of valuable drinking time. If I'm currently stuck in this God forsaken small town, why not make the most of it.

Drying my eyes and burying the pain inside, I stand up and search for the perfect outfit. Finding a low cut top with long sleeves and a pair of stonewashed denim jeans that were last in fashion in the early nineties, I change rather gingerly. Both my arms are throbbing with pain now but I don't give it a seconds thought, what I need is money.

Having another dig around in yesterdays jeans I find a twenty dollar note which is not going to get me far but its a start. I throw on my vomit splattered green converse and add a touch of makeup. Gazing in the bathroom mirror at my reflection, I come to the conclusion that I don't look half bad, well for an insane person that is.

As I walk to the door twenty in hand, I begin to brainstorm for ideas on how I'm going to get my hands on more booze. If I don't have the money, I'll just have to find a compliant enough guy with cash to burn.

I discover a dingy bar ten minutes from the motel room called Pissed Off Pete's and with no apparent cage fighting in sight and an all day happy hour promotion running, I think I've found my place.

An all day happy hour doesn't make much sense to me but I feel a scrap of excitement at the prospect of two for the price of one. I'll head inside, wasn't I told once to follow my instincts? Well my instincts are screaming at me to get the hell in the bar lickety-split.

They say you learn something new everyday and I've learnt that pulling down my top a smidgen or two to show more cleavage gets me served no questions asked. I'm starting to like this bum fuck of a shitty town.

I'm drinking from a pint of beer with a straw and I'm receiving countless a mystifying look from my fellow customers. Do guys not understand the concept that lipstick and a beer glass don't mix. I'd rather not smudge my makeup, is that too hard for a guy to get their head around, obviously it is because they're still staring.

Five minutes later a guy in his late forties approaches complete with a beer belly and a bald patch. Looks like I've gone and found my first victim. I hope he has deep pockets.

"We don't get many beauties like you up this way." He slurs, his breath almost knocking me out cold. "Your hair's a bit funny but I'm liking what I see. Fancy a drink, girl?"

How could a woman turn down an invitation like that, huh? Please understand that the last comment was meant to be extremely sarcastic. I mean, look at the state of him.

Again, I shudder at the smell of stale beer on his breath wising he'd go puff somewhere else. "Why not." I shrug feeling slightly tipsy myself.

I only have five dollars left, thank fuck for happy hour/day/night. Badgering the guy into ordering me a fancy cocktail with a rather erotic name that even makes me blush, I down the first drink in one go. As I'm sipping the second I hear a tip tapping of angry heels behind me.

"Harold!" A lady screeches with ear splitting accuracy.

"Ah, Maggie, my dear." The guy that was hitting on me cries.

Oh well, there goes tonight's meal ticket. I shrug to myself and carry on drinking.

"Listen to me, you little whore!"

Huh, is she talking to me?

I look around searching for the little whore in question and I don't see her. Actually I'm the only other female in the damn place.

"Who, me?" I ask pointing at myself.

"Yes, you, you home wrecking whore!"

Wow, those are some fighting words.

"Whatever," I snort finding the situation absolutely priceless. Swiftly finishing my drink I attempt to stand.

Whoa, those last two drinks have gone straight to me head.

"I'm not done with you yet, hussy!"

Turning to the brazen cow, I give her a scathing glare. I look her up and down and she has the audacity to call me a hussy, mutton dressed as lamb comes to mind.

She might as well have left home dressed in her underwear for crying out loud and at her age, Jesus Christ. I'm tempted to put a rolled up twenty down her bra and ask her how much she charges.

"Well, I'm done with you." I answer coldly.

I just want to get drunk in relative peace, is that really too much to ask? Apparently so because she doesn't look like she's going to back off anytime soon.

"Now, look here!" She shouts, hands on her hips and her foot tapping on a creaky floor board.

"No, you look here. I wouldn't touch your repulsive bastard of a husband with a ten foot barge pole, so get your facts straight before you start shouting your over sized mouth off!" And with that said and a potential cat fight averted, I make my way over to the other side of the bar, I need another drink.

Here we go again, I find myself a quiet spot to park my cute little ass and another moron stumbles over. Oh joy, of sweet joys.

"Do you believe in love at first sight or shall I walk past again?"

Now idiot number two is pretty similar to idiot number one, except he has a slightly alarming Hitler moustache and a pair of man jugs that I would be stoked to call my own. He buys me three shots of whiskey and I get another three shots free. So that would be... Um, five shots? No, that isn't right, is it?

Idiot number two stands patiently waiting for me to finish my drinks as he orders himself another bottle of beer. He clears his throat and smiles as he checks out my legs with his eyes twinkling in glee.

I groan as I try to ignore the horny freak. Why can't he go and take his lecherous desires elsewhere? No calm down, Rogue. He's just a random dick and he did buy you the shots. I can put up with him for a bit, lets just call this my good deed for the day.

"Have you got something to say?" I ask growing bored of my present company. He's just standing there staring, not saying a fucking word.

"Are you from Tennessee? Because you're the ten I see!" He shouts, spilling his beer down his shirt.

You see, I try and have a friendly conversation and look what I'm rewarded with for my efforts, cheesy fucking pick up lines. What the hell do they put in the water supply around here?

"No, Mississippi actually." I answer politely feeling rather drunk now.

"That's a great pair of legs you have there, what time do they open?" Idiot number two asks checking his watch.

I sit on my bar stool for all but ten seconds in utter bewilderment. What the fuck did he just say to me?

"Do you want to repeat that?" I snarl getting to my feet.

"Sure, little lady. I said, great pair of legs, what time do they open?" And again he checks his watch.

Is this one of those shows where you meet an obnoxious prick and if you don't bite their head off in twenty minutes you win a hundred dollars?

"So, what do you say, me you and the alley way out the back?"

This shit is going to stop right now, if he wants a hooker Mrs. Mutton dressed as lamb is over in the corner.

Eyeing his yet untouched bottle of beer sitting on the bar, a thought springs in my mind and its an absolute beauty. I reach for his bottle and throw the beer in his face and when that doesn't satisfy me, I knee him swiftly in the balls and shove him into a crowd of dangerous looking bikers.

Number two falls into the group and I hear a collection of incensed shouts and jeers as he knocks over a good many of their drinks in the process of falling on his monster of an ass.

I smirk to myself, it serves the dick right. Did he actually expect to get anywhere treating me like that? I'm about to sit back down and order another drink when all hell breaks loose as the bikers attack idiot number two who somehow manages to dodge a punch and the hairy biker hits some poor unsuspecting man.

Okay, not so poor. Mr. Unsuspecting has just knocked Mr. Hairy biker out in one punch...wow. One enormous bar fight commences with furniture getting broken left right and centre. I'm more then inclined to sit back and watch the show until Pissed off Pete emerges from behind the bar with a sawn off shotgun. Um, time for the Rogue to haul ass out of here, me thinks.

As I take a crack at my impression of a sober young lady who is more than able to walk straight, I bump into Mrs. Mutton dressed as lamb helping idiot number one to their car. As we both stand in the parking lot giving each other the evil eye, I giggle at the absurdity of it all.

I only wanted a drink and now I've caused a major bar fight and will probably be banned from this shit hole of a small town for the rest of my life. Life just doesn't seem fair sometimes.

"I know what you are tramp, you're a mutie. I just had to take a look at that hair of yours." The good for nothing bitch hisses closing the door on her incoherent husband.

"Don't tell me your parents threw you out." She grins cruelly as she sees my face fall.

"I bet they wish they'd drowned you at birth, imagine having a mutant as a daughter, you must have been such a disappointment to them."

I feel the uncontrollable rage bubble inside of me as I watch Maggie smirk knowing that she has hit the nail on the head. There's no way I'll take this lying down, she might be right about my parents but now I've got a score to settle with her.

I thank my lucky stars as I catch sight of a randomly dumped crowbar on the ground. I suppose it wasn't such a bad idea to come drinking in the crappy part of town in the first place, you never know when you might need a weapon to go on an unplanned rampage with.

Now its my turn to smirk spitefully as I pick up the crow bar and walk towards her.

"Wait, wait mutie, don't hurt me." Maggie weeps throwing her arms over her head and crouching low in the dirt.

Now that's what you call a rapid change in behaviour. Stupid woman, I was never going to hurt her but I can always take my frustrations out with an act of frenzied vandalism.

I raise the crow bar above my head and smash the car windscreen with all my strength and I stumble around the car shattering each window with added might. Not tiring at all I pummel the bonnet, with each blow I think of my parents hateful words, Logan calling me insane, Bobby dumping me for Kitty until I'm overcome with tears and breathless.

Dropping the crow bar at my feet, my eyes widen at the totalled car and the whimpering Mrs. Mutton dressed as lamb. Oh God, I'm insane, he was right I am insane. I can't do this anymore and glancing once more at the destruction I've caused, I run.

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I've been stumbling in circles for a place to rest for the past hour and have found quite by chance an old stone bridge. Sitting on the crumbling wall of the bridge and dangling my feet over the side, I stare down at the racing current beneath me.

I wonder if the water is as deep as it looks? I'm fairly high up, would a drop like that shatter my bones, would it be like landing on concrete? Would it hurt, would I die quickly, is drowning an easy death, do I really want to die?

Wiping the tears away and sighing heavily to myself, I allow my thoughts to race at a breakneck speed. What do I have to live for, I have no boyfriend, no friends, no family and my parents they... They hate me. You see, I rang them up just to talk to them four months ago and they told me they didn't want to know. My own parents were repulsed by what I had become, a mutant. They still see me as a mutant after taking the cure. But I don't have my mutation anymore, I literally have nothing. I don't even have my sanity. I've lost that as well. Not a soul cares if I die, I'm unwanted, an unwanted and unloved insane girl.

That's all I have, a choice. A choice whether I live or die. I'm thinking about the drink and the drugs, they give me some pleasure, don't they? But they're not enough any longer, I need more. I just want someone to love me, care for me, hug me, tell me that everything is going to be alright.

Everything isn't going to be alright though. I'm on a bridge contemplating suicide with my arms cut to fucking pieces, a belly full of liquor and a whopping great chunk missing from my heart.

I falter and nearly plummet head first off of the bridge as I try to stand but no I won't let this be an accident. My final act in this fucking crap life will be deliberate, I'm hardly going out with a bang but its in no means a whimper either. As I close my eyes and take a step towards the edge, the sound of a car screeching to a halt carelessly beside the foot of the bridge startles me and my eyes snap open.

The headlights illuminate the surrounding area and I feel as though I've been captured in a spotlight. I'm on fucking stage but I don't have butterflies in my stomach, I don't feel nervous, I'm at peace with the world. I hear the drivers heavy footsteps on the gravelled road behind me but the water below has bewitched me, it has a hold of me and I can't look away.

"Kid?" I hear Logan say, evident worry bleeding into his usually sounding gruff voice.

"Come on, look at me."

No, no I won't look at him. I won't let him stop me, not this time. I take another small step and my toes are now positioned just over the edge.

"Hey, we can talk about this… Kid, come on." He sounds so desperate, I chance a brief glance at him.

I break our eye contact and return to calmly gazing at the river.

"I'm insane, I can't be here anymore, it hurts too much." I sob quietly knowing Logan with his acute hearing has heard every word.

"You're not insane, I didn't mean to... Look, just grab my hand, Marie."

I look back at Logan with his hand outstretched and his eyes compelling me to listen. Then I look down at the unforgiving river. What do I do? I don't know what to do, I just...What the fuck do I do?


	15. The Long And Winding Road

**_Brit-Babe191 - Yep, caring Logan rears his ugly head again, Lol. I hereby give you Idiot number 2 :P Go on, take him out and buy him a drink down your local._**

_**darkfantasy16 - Logan a prick...never! LMAO and lucky you being neighbour less, I wish I was ;) and thanks, nice to know you enjoyed reading.**_

_**RogueNya - The woman was a cow. She would probably accuse everyone she meets with dyed hair of being mutant. Anyway I've never met someone with dyed white hair, can you imagine? She was annoying the hell out of me as I was writing. And if it would have been believable to have Logan on his knees, kissing Rogue's feet and begging for her forgiveness, I would have jumped at the chance. But I think he's too macho for that.**_

_**rockout1 - Thank you, you just caught me posting another chapter, I almost left you out. I always find idiots like that in a bar :P**_

_**Thanks to everyone reviewing and reading :)**_

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**The Long And Winding Road**

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I feel as though I'm a stranger in my own life, I'm not Marie D'Ancanto and I'm certainly not Rogue. When you cease to exist in this cruel and unrelenting world, what do you do?

Well don't look at me, I don't have all the answers. As a matter of fact I don't have any. Standing on a stone bridge mentally unstable and covered in snot and tears is hardly my finest hour and yet it doesn't seem to disturb me.

I'm emotionally detached to a certain extent and despite my hardened heart, I can't throw off Logan's pleas. He's always so gruff and feral but here he is standing behind me, begging me to reconsider and let him help me. If I didn't know for a fact that Mystique had been cured, I would have been more than suspicious, now I'm just confused.

"Jumpin' ain't gonna kill you, Kid. You're made of tougher stuff then that. You'd break somethin' though."

I watch Logan take a modest step towards me and he is less than a foot away now, he's too close.

"Stay back!" I cry, the tears falling thick and fast, blurring my vision.

"Okay, okay, take it easy..." He grunts stepping back.

"You don't understand. Why doesn't anyone understand me?" I whisper positively distraught. Why can't he sympathize with my choice, I don't want to continue suffering like this, I refuse to be a modern day martyr.

"No, I don't. You need to explain it to me." Logan says whilst treading carefully and once again approaching my shaking form. "We can talk, sit our asses down together and discuss it, but not here"

I shake my head rashly and I think I've made up my mind. "I can't" I mutter quietly and pivot to face the impending drop.

This needs to be quick, why prolong a mediocre and irrelevant life? Maybe if I'm lucky I'll fall and snap my neck. Half a second ahead of my intended leap of death the rocks beneath my feet start to perish and I scream in terror as I nearly topple over the side. Why I'm screaming, I couldn't tell you. Wasn't I about to throw myself over the edge? Its human instinct I suppose.

A secure hand loops around my arm steadying me as I struggle to catch my breath and calm my palpitating heart. Fucking hell, that was a close call. Now I'm as puzzled as ever, I feel so relived to still be standing here.

As I stand on the wall shaken to the core and spaced out, I dissolve into a blubbering mess. I can't even kill myself without fucking up, what the hell is wrong with me? Oh yeah, I'm insane, deranged, batty, cracked, unhinged and probably psychotic too and I'm unable to top myself. That's what I will have written on my tombstone 'Here lies Rogue, an insane screw up till the bitter end'.

Logan watches my emotional breakdown without running this time, maybe an old dog can learn new tricks. He draws me tenderly by the upper arm away from the edge and into his arms. I don't have the strength to fight, so I surrender without uttering a word. As my feet gently touch the ground, I fall in his embrace and nuzzle into his leather jacket inhaling the aroma of cigar smoke that always used to make me feel so safe and secure.

"It hurts so bad." I sniff unable to stop the tears.

I hear Logan sigh and he rests his head heavily on mine.

"I know, Kid, I know. Sometimes pain's a good thing though, lets you know you're still alive."

I think that statement has a double meaning, is he referring to his state of mind after Jean's death? I'm unsure but I don't think its relevant to my situation, the emotional pain I'm currently experiencing is unbearable.

"I didn't mean to..." I splutter shivering in his arms.

"Shh, said I'd take care of you, didn't I?" I nod into his jacket. "And I'm gonna, you don't have to worry bout' a thing."

But I have so much to worry about, I'm close to tearing my hair out, what if I get the urge to try something like that again? How can I ever go back to the mansion in this state and will I ever feel a trace of happiness? Please don't tell me I'm destined to be miserable for the rest of my life.

"I can't go back to the mansion." I relate sadly. I can't face everyone there, especially Bobby and Kitty; I still feel so much hatred towards them. Attacking Kitty was just the tip of the iceberg, I don't know what I'll be capable of next time and I know there will be a next time, the pain is still so raw.

"Never said you had to. Can't be draggin' you away from fights all the time, can I?" Logan replies. "You gonna tell we what that Kitty thing was about?"

"Ask Kitty." I demand grumpily. That is not something I want to discuss at this moment in time, I feel shitty enough as it is. I don't want to be reminded of my past failures as a girlfriend.

"Can't, she ain't here, its just the two of us, Kid." I can distinctly hear the sound of amusement in his voice.

"If you want me back on that bridge, you're going the right way about it." I grumble. I feel Logan's back stiffen and his arms tighten their hold around me.

"Not funny, Marie" He growls.

"I wasn't trying to be funny." I huff despondently. I don't think I even have a funny bone in my body, let alone the energy or brain activity to plough into any hilarious comments I might have made in the past.

"Look, how bout' we head straight for Canada. Gotta feelin' you've gone and worn out your welcome in town." I cringe expecting Logan to start yelling at me. "I ain't gonna shout at you..." I release the breath I was holding. "Yet."

I groan out loud, doesn't he think I've been through enough crap these past few weeks?

"We've got a hell of a lot to talk about, you and me but we need to get outta here before the cops come searchin'. You certainly know how to swing a crow bar, I'll give you that."

Oh God, the crow bar business, like I fucking care that's the least of my worries.

Logan releases me from his strong embrace and I miss the warmth of his body heat as I feel the full force of a winters night hit me. I'm starting to sober up damn it, I wonder if it would be too much trouble to ask him to swing by another bar on the way out of town. I can't handle all these constant thoughts niggling away at me, I will never be courageous enough to stand on my own two feet at the rate my life is spiralling out of control.

"Come on, Kid, you're gonna catch hypothermia or some shit out here."

As Logan nudges me towards the direction of the car, I gaze over my shoulder to the bridge where I almost ended it all. I know the probability of me dying was high, I'm not a strong swimmer and the current would have dragged me under as soon as I had hit the water. Would it have been a justifiable and well thought out decision though, I can't answer that. At the time I thought so, yes, but now I'm undecided. As I take a seat in the car and a new wave of pure emotion hits me, drawing yet more deliberately hidden tears to the surface, I sigh to myself. Will this shit ever get easier to handle?


	16. Don't Let Me Get Me

_**Thanks to RogueNya, noro, darkfantasy16 and Brit-babe191 for the reviews :) greatly appreciated guys.**_

_**darkfantasy16 - So far there has been the Bobby/Kitty business and the crappy phone call with her parents. You'll find out more about her parents soon, I promise.**_

_**Brit-babe191 - You've got idiot number two now for keeps, no returns or exchanges! LMAO**_

**In this chapter there is a lot of bickering and that's about it, bit of a filler.

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**Don't Let Me Get Me**

_I'm my own worst enemy - Pink

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"There's no electricity?" I question with a grumble.

Okay, now I'm astounded; I'm on the verge of absolute panic. My inner palms are sweaty, I have that wide eyed deer expression glued to my face and there is a one in ten chance that I am about to experience my first cardiac arrest at the tender age of seventeen. He must be joking, yes, this is one huge wisecrack, I can't be expected to live without electricity.

"Nope." I can almost hear the smirk creeping into his voice. I would bet my life savings that Logan can smell my alarm. I watch him remove our bags from the trunk as I sit lethargically in the front passenger seat with my feet propped agreeably on the dashboard.

Who would want to live a life deprived of the use of electricity? I sure as hell don't. I might be out of my tree but I'm not totally gaga, although staying somewhere like this is guaranteed to drive me over the edge I happen to be teetering on, metaphorically speaking.

"So, no television, dish washer or washing machine then?" I ask still unable to accept that having no electricity means no added luxuries that I have become accustomed to.

"Nope." Logan grunts again, depositing the bags on the wooden porch and rifling under a plant pot for the key.

"But where do I wash my clothes?"

Realization is now dawning on me and it is not a pretty sight. Its not as if I'm planning on participating in a fashion show anytime soon but I need clean clothes. I know I'm currently in the middle of fucking nowhere with no one except Logan for company but you are missing the point.

"There's a creek over that way." He answers unconcerned, waving his hand in the direction of an array of trees behind the cabin. "You hand wash them, kid."

Hand wash them, he says. I wouldn't even know where to start. Oh God, I'm in domestic hell. Even when I found myself hitch hiking across Canada I never had to hand wash anything. Has the guy never heard of a laundry mat? We're not in the middle of the Arabian desert, you know, and civilisation is only a drive away. So I don't see why I should be forced into engaging in manual labour.

"No." I declare adamantly. These hands are as soft as a baby's bottom and they are going to stay that way.

"What do you mean, no?" Logan kicks our bags through the open doorway and leans wearily against the timber clad wall. "It'll be like campin', don't tell me you've never camped before?"

No I haven't, does he think I look like the kind of girl that likes to go camping. No wait, I have camped out before, the uh, alkali lake night but I really don't think he wants to reminisce about that.

"No I haven't, I don't think I come from camping stock, Logan."

"Well, no time like the present."

"No way." I huff indignantly crossing my arms over my chest in growing annoyance.

"It ain't gonna kill you, kid." He sighs, scratching his chin.

"Poor choice of words, you idiot." I rebuke.

He might question my sanity but I'm now examining his. What the hell made him say something like that? Is the bridge incident that easily brushed under the carpet.

"Just get yourself outta the car." Logan groans, brushing off my previous comment. I hate it when he does that, why won't he just argue. At least Bobby had his uses. Oh no, don't you dare think about the Ice prick.

"I'm not stepping foot inside that shack!" I screech rather hysterically. I personally don't even understand why I'm getting so hot and bothered about this. I've certainly slept in worse places, Doug's apartment for example. And now I'm thinking about another ex-boyfriend. What the hell, maybe my brain has been wired wrong. Yeah that's it, I wonder if I can sue God for shoddy workmanship?

My parents were always... And there I go again. I hate myself, I well and truly hate myself. I slap my head sharply hoping that my brain reads the warning loud and clear, no more discouraging thoughts, damn it.

"It's a cabin..."

"It doesn't look like it from where I'm sitting."

Interrupting someone before they have a chance to launch into their 'just-give-it-a-try-you-never-know-you-might-even-surprise-yourself-and-enjoy-it' speech is one of my favourite past times, go on I beseech you to give it a try yourself. Ugh, I sound just as bad don't I, what on earth am I turning into.

"Stop the bellyaching, you're startin' to grate on my last nerve." He growls. "Its got a roof and four walls, what else do you need?"

"I'd rather go back to the mansion." I gripe wrinkling my nose in disgust. Like hell I would.

"You said last night you didn't wanna!" Logan barks lighting himself a cigar and pacing back and forth across the length of the porch.

"Well, that was last night and this is now. Anyway I have important classes to attend."

"Don't try and feed me that shit. You ain't got no intention of goin' to classes." He shoots me one of his 'Do-you-think-I'm-fucking-stupid' scowls and the answer would be, yes I damn well do.

"So says you!" Okay no I had no intention of going to class but when did Logan become so accomplished at reading between the lines. Perhaps I smell different when I lie and I was never capable of being dishonest to Logan's face. We had this pact to always be truthful to each other whatever the circumstance or outcome.

"Marie, just get your ass outta the car for Christ sake!"

I think he is finally at the end of his tether with me, I never knew the guy had so much patience to begin with.

"No way." I'm entitled to change my mind, maybe I could stay at a local motel with hot water, TV and a washing machine within easy reach.

"Were you always this God damn difficult?" Logan grimaces and cuts short his mindless pacing to give the thought his full consideration.

"Yes!" I cry shutting the car door and locking myself in. Now I would say Logan is the insane one for leaving the car keys in the ignition. Its just a shame I don't have a freaking idea how to drive. It looks like I'm stuck here.

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Last night I undoubtedly crashed after the debacle on the bridge. I had been slowly overflowing with emotion ever since breaking up with Bobby and I refused myself the pathetic privilege of crying over the whole sorry saga. Losing a best friend, my boyfriend and my parents all over again in the context of a week was unexpectedly harsh and I never saw it coming.

I had no time to protect my heart from the battering that would come to pass. But now I've cried and released some of the pent up emotion, I feel satisfactory.

Yes, just satisfactory and I still have enough stamina to argue and attempt to prove a moronic point, hurray for me. Even if the point I'm trying to prove will never see the light of day and without a shadow of a doubt with thoughts like that I'll always be two steps behind the fortunate and deliriously happy person, damn it.

A knock at the window rouses me from my dismal thoughts. "Are you comin' out anytime today? The suns startin' to set."

"How observant of you, Logan." I gibe. I had in fact noticed the sun was setting and it is absolutely freezing in here. I tried to turn the heater on but there are so many buttons, dials and switches to play with I feel like I'm locked in James Bond's archetypal gadget packed car.

"Kid, now is the time to stop your tantrumin' cause' the temperatures gonna drop way below freezin' tonight." I hear him grunt as I recline in my chair refusing to look at him.

"I'm not having a tantrum!" I shout expressing my strong displeasure at the accusation.

"Yeah you are, you're throwin' your toys outta the pram. So suck it up and get over it, life ain't a picnic, sometimes you gotta do stuff you don't wanna do."

"If I was throwing anything you'd know all about it because I would be using your head as target practice." I howl working myself into a frenzy. "I'm not leaving this car!"

"You're gonna freeze, you'll be snowed in." He counters with his own branch of fury.

"A bit of snow never hurt anyone and its got a roof and four walls, what else do I need?" Uh, sort of, well they are walls in a way and if I can get this heater to work then my teeth will stop chattering and I will be as snug as a bug in a rug. "Nothing short of an apocalyptic crisis will make me leave this car." I blurt out while scratching my lower leg.

That damn itch won't go away, what the heck is going on? As I roll up my left pants leg to investigate the irritating tickling further, I release a high pitched scream in terror. "Spider, spider, spider, spider, spider, spider, spider, spider!" I screech as I attempt to shake my leg free of its offensive passenger.

As I watch the spider fall to the floor and scurry under my seat, I scramble to unlock the door. Why the fuck did I lock the fucking thing? Fucking open will you for fuck sake!

The door finally unlocks and I leap out of the car, sprint over to the safety of the porch and search vigorously for any other creepy crawlies that might be hiding in my clothes. Wait, why am I patting down my body, what if I squash one? Shit, now my other leg is tingling. No that's not a tingle its an itch... Oh shit, shit, shit!

I roll my other pants leg up to my knee in a panic, nearly falling over in the process and I hear Logan chuckling in amusement. "It's not funny" I whine still searching for any hidden insects.

"Who'd need a TV, kid, you're entertainin' enough..."

That's fucking fantastic, he can't even finish off his sentence because he is doubled over laughing so hard.

"Did you see the size of that damn thing?" I demand smoothing down my tussled hair and clothes. Okay, I am officially bug free... I hope.

"It was just a tiny spider." Logan snorts.

"It wasn't a spider, it was a tarantula, it was huge, gigantic, a massive, gross hairy eight legged blood thirsty tarantula!" I shudder at the image that my comment conjures up in my mind.

"Blood thirsty?" He asks shaking his head with an added smirk.

"It had fangs!" I exclaim angrily. I hate not being taken seriously.

"It was a little spider lookin' for a warm place to bunk down and found your leg..."

And he's at it again with the laughter. "The look on your face when..."

"I think I liked you better when you were short tempered, grumpy and moping around feeling sorry for yourself. Like when Jean refused to let you take Scott's place in her bed!" What the hell has come over me to mention the Jean, Scott and Logan love triangle? Well he's certainly not laughing now and I feel a rather shameless sense of achievement as Logan's face falls. "You were pathetic, you walked around with your tail between your legs. I mean Jean didn't want you, so you run away telling the professor all this crap about finding out your past! Then when she dies you abandon everyone again like a pitiful..."

"Enough!" Logan bellows narrowing his eyes and clenching his fists.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it, Logan?" I scoff with a stubborn smile. " Welcome to my world. Don't give me that look, you're the one that wanted me to talk, so I'm talking!" I hiss overcome with utter rage.

"Go inside." He orders, deliberately turning his back on me and walking away.

"That's it, run away from me again. When are you going to grow a backbone, huh?" I yell roughly as I watch him retreat into the adjacent woods.

As I stand alone on the veranda, I start to wish that I had kept my mouth shut. I know I have abandonment issues stemming from my own parents but now Logan too?

Shit, I wish I'd kept my mouth shut. I think I've really hurt his feelings.


	17. I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

_**Brit-Babe191 - Nope, nothing wrong with fillers and every story needs a spider related hissy fit. I absolutely hate spiders! And I'll just have to re-home idiot number 2.**_

_**RogueNya - I would have done, too. Damn spiders. Yeah Rogue can argue with the best of them.**_

_**Noci-chan - Italy! Lucky you :) and your review doesn't suck.**_

_**Thanks for all the reviews as usual guys :) and a thank you for reading.

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**I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself

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I'm unable to play eye spy with myself and, yes I have tried for the past twenty minutes now and I've tried more than once. Oh, I know I lost the last of my marbles during the spider stomping temper tantrum or maybe the ultimate mind destroying act was climbing on to that bridge. What can I say, I'm now one wave short of a shipwreck and I don't even have an original bone in my body, that line is from a Queen song, isn't it?

Damn it, I'm so lonely. I need some company and I won't be fussy, I promise. Is there anyone out there who just wants a friend? If so, I'm your girl. We can get together and chat a little, have a good old gossiping session, swap clothes, paint each others nails, do what all best friends do, and then I can drink you under the table. We'll both be three sheets to the wind and not have a care in the world.

No don't start complaining about a hangover. Okay, how about this, we stay drunk. See its easy, no headaches, no shoving your head down a toilet spewing for England and no passing out and getting kidnapped. If you want to avoid a hangover, you stay drunk. That way you'll be able to fight off any would be gruff and feral kidnappers who claim they only have your best interests at heart but once again dump your ass when something more important appears on their radar.

Now, onto the next subject matter; Where the hell has Logan gone? Well, last night after my spider stomping temper tantrum turned into a, I feel like utter crap so lets start on Wolvie type situation, he took off and I came and sat inside beside the shacks log burning fire all teary eyed and remorseful.

I hugged my knees and cried wishing all these shit filled circumstances would all piss off and I could have a simple life, a life where my big mouth wouldn't be allowed to run amok and cause so much unnecessary pain to my loved ones.

I don't hate Jean and I was never jealous, honestly I wasn't. I had no right to be, what was Logan to me? He wasn't my lover, boyfriend, husband or fiancée and he's no relation, I was just a slip of a girl that forced her way into his life and then preceded to fuck it up.

Its just that after her first so called death I felt slightly abandoned and after she died the second time I was happy. No, not because she died, I would never ever think that. I'm not callous but I was content with my life and if truth be told, I don't think that Jean would have been able to live a charmed life knowing what had become of Scott and the Professor. I'm not a cold hearted bitch but sometimes words are better off being unsaid and that brings me back to Logan, I should never have said those awful things to him. I'm just not myself at the moment.

So, I need to explain to you why I'm categorically lonely, comfortless and I feel like I'm in solitary confinement, as well as unloved, friendless and once again abandoned.

Well it goes a little like this, last night I patiently waited up for Logan, he walked in, wouldn't look at me, wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't listen to me and then his communicator rang and he left.

Can you see where this story is headed? Oh, I'm sure you can. I woke up this morning and thought to myself, I need to apologise to Logan and I'll do whatever it takes to make him listen to my heartfelt apologies and a guy with enhanced hearing can only put up with so much.

I walk into the kitchen and what do I find? Nope, no Logan, I am currently Logan-less and will be for the foreseeable future if the note I found has anything to do with it. At least he left a note this time, so I can't complain too much. Anyway the note read: Gone on a mission.

So here I am sat on the porch steps absolutely freezing my ass off and waiting for him to return. I need to make things right between us again and I know he won't be a pushover this time. I just don't know what to do with myself, I can't find any logs for the fire, there's no can opener for the canned food and I don't even know how to cook anyway. What the fuck is the point, why fight destiny? I fucking give up.

Okay, its the second day and there is still no sign of Logan and I have stopped playing eye spy with myself. A step in the right direction, don't you think?

Just picture this, a horse drawn cart and a driver wearing a top hat pass you by. I'm so hungry I would eat the horse, use the cart as fire wood and chase the hat wearing driver around the woods just to give myself some purpose in life, do you find that weird at all?

Its day three and I'm experiencing the hunger pains from hell. I'm used to there always being food when I want it, what I wouldn't give for a Big Mac with large fries right now. Shit, I'd sell my own organs on the black market. I'm so tired, I just need a nap…

Ugh, it's day four and I accidentally slept day three away, not that it mattered of course. All I missed though was another snow storm and that's hardly news worthy information, is it. I have searched high and low again for a can opener, a knife or anything that can possibly pry open a damn metal can but no such luck. I even tried throwing the can against the wall numerous times hoping that would help, when it didn't I dissolved into hysterics and fell to my knees in tears. What on earth is wrong with me now?

Today is day five and the shittiest day of my life. Why didn't I have Logan arrested for kidnapping charges when I had the chance. Its probably a good thing that he took the mansions car with him on his adventures or I would have attacked it with the fire poker. Now I have a decision to make, I either stay here and starve to death (No joke or sarcasm involved. I need food and I need it now) or I walk to the nearest village or small town. I know we passed one at the foot of the mountains.

It's still day five and I have left in search of the little village we passed during the car ride, it can't possibly be that far on foot, can it?

Okay, I really should have listened when Logan taught my class all about surviving the elements when you have fuck all with you except the clothes on your back and some change in your pocket. I never thought I would become the one stranded though, especially not by Wolverine's doing. What the fuck was he thinking? He can't just haul my ass out here and then leave me to rot. He said so himself I can't look after myself and I say this current situation reeks of just that.

As I step carefully through the snow carpeted woods surrounded by trees that all look the freaking same, I can't help but cry out "I hope you're happy now, asshole!", Because I have no alcohol or drugs to be corrupted by out here, I am at one with nature and it sucks. Oh, I wish I was at the God damn mansion.

While I rub my hands together attempting to keep myself warm there are two thoughts that are continuously running through my mind , Christ I'm going to die out here and when I do, I'm coming back as a ghost and I will unashamedly haunt Logan's ass until the day he dies.


	18. Why Does It Always Rain On Me

_**Thanks to noro and cylobaby for the reviews, greatly appreciated guys :)**

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**Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

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Food, food, food, food…

Okay, drama averted, I knew where I was going, no seriously I did. Don't you dare be so sceptical, have you any idea what I'm standing in front of at this exact moment?

Nope, didn't think so. Look closer, I'm here. There's a small store to my left, a diner to my right and a bar a few hundred yards down the road, a real life hands down bar. A bar that sells ice cold beer on tap, whiskey shots and a happy hour.

No, I didn't just squeal in delight. Okay, I may have done, just a teensy-weensy bit but in my defence that is the first bar I've seen in days. I won't be setting foot inside there though, I have to speak to Logan first. Yes, I have finally got my priorities straight.

Grovelling and apologies first, drinking second, getting as high as a kite third and forth... Um... let me get back to you on that. I'm slightly scatter brained at the moment; all I can think about is food, food and food.

"What can I get you, honey?"

I'm finally here, after five damn days, I can eat, eat, eat to my hearts content.

"Um, let me see." I mutter to myself scanning the laminated menu. "Can I have the fried chicken, double fries, the cheese omelette, a portion of butter milk pancakes. How many pancakes would that be?"

"Ten" The waitress answers as I lick my lips in anticipation.

Ten, how utterly marvellous.

"Great, now where was I? Oh, yeah, the pancakes, an extra large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, beef, salami and extra, extra, extra cheese. Hmm, the triple cheese burger with lettuce, onions and tomatoes, a vanilla milkshake and you know what ,I think I'll have the chocolate one too." I smile at the surprised waitress resisting the urge to tell her to hurry the fuck up.

"Uh, is that all?" She asks blinking at me in surprise.

Do you know what, I'm actually not sure. You never know, it might be days until I'm able to eat again. That reminds me I must buy a can opener.

"Any desserts? The apple pie is on special this week."

A slice of mama's homemade apple pie, huh? "I think I'll pass." I have never looked at an apple pie the same since watching _American Pie _along with Jube's. It's just well, it's wrong, there have to be laws against being intimate with some disgusting mushy fruit encased in pastry.

"How about the chocolate brownies? They're freshly baked out of the oven"

Did she just say chocolate?

"Yes!" I shout almost leaping to my feet. Jesus, I need to get a hold of myself.

"Okay, so that's the fried chicken, double fries, cheese omelette, pancakes, large pizza with pepperoni, sausage, beef, salami, and extra, extra, extra cheese, a triple cheese burger with all the trimmings, a vanilla milkshake, a chocolate milkshake and a chocolate brownie." The waitress asks reading from her notebook and slightly out of breath.

"No, make that four brownies. Also a banana milkshake... Oh and the strawberry one too." Jesus, I'm extremely ravenous and I'm two steps away from gnawing the table cloth. "And do you do those doughnuts with the sprinkles on them?" The waitress nods her head. "I'll have two of those as well please." Seeing the startled look on the waitress's face, I hastily add, "I'm hungry, I've worked up an appetite...a huuuuuuge appetite." I claim alongside varied hand gestures hoping to get my point across.

I'm not a crazy person, I'm just famished. Yep, I have worked up an appetite moaning, sulking and generally feeling sorry for myself.

"Finished, honey?" The waitress questions eyeing the large stack of empty plates, dishes and glasses in front of me. "Any complaints?"

Yes, my tummy hurts.

"No" I watch her collect the crockery as I massage my aching stomach. I think it's safe to assume that my eyes are bigger than my belly.

"I'll get you the bill then"

The bill, holy shit. I can't even begin to explain the pitfalls of that sentence. You don't have any spare change or maybe a few ten dollar bills do you? I'll pay you back, I promise. Come on, what do you want me to do, beg?

"Here you are, call me when you're ready to pay." My stumpy, greasy haired waitress says handing me a fucking excessively long bill.

Fucking hell…! Eighty nine dollars and thirty seven cents and that doesn't even include the tax or the God damn tip. What the hell was in the food...gold dust! Okay I might be exaggerating to some degree there but have you seen the bill. No, I'm not a tight ass but Jesus Christ this is only some back water diner not an award winning Michelin star restaurant.

Where do they get off charging extortionate prices like that?

I check my pocket praying for a miracle and nope, its not happening. I have four dollars and fifteen cents... Um... Have you ever been so incredibly hungry that your common sense flees in search of nourishment and say you walk into a diner forgetting you have no money and go a tiny bit crazy and order almost everything on the menu, then eat it all but can't exactly pay for any of it? Has that ever happened to you? No, I thought not.

Leisurely drumming my fingers on the table top, I scan my mind for a simple solution. I could wash dishes...Ugh, maybe not. Apologise and cry? No way. I've spent days doing just that. I know, I've got it, I'll make a run for it.

Oh, if you could see the smug look plastered across my face. I sneak a peek through my tangled hair and I spot the waitress in deep conversation with the cook, perfect. Okay here goes nothing, I can't believe I'm even contemplating doing this. Five, four, three, two, one and I'm out my seat and dashing out of the door without a second glance.

Jeez, why did I eat so much? Its making it hard to run even remotely fucking fast. Ugh, I'm surplus blubber and grease on legs.

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"Can I help you, young lady?"

Huh, oh yes, I wonder if they have a phone I could use. I'm currently hiding, I mean browsing at the merchandise in the quaint general store.

"Uh, yeah you can, you don't have a phone I could possibly use do you? I don't have much cash you see and I need my family to wire me some up here." Okay, okay a slight white lie. No I don't have any funds, dough, coins or bucks but at least I can fish for some much needed information. Oh the trials and tribulations of being Marie and I do hate being kept in the dark.

"Of course you can." She answers softly ushering me into the back room of the store. "Make yourself at home." What a kind elderly lady, maybe a little too friendly though, you can never be to careful. She reminds me of an older version of my mama...Well before she became a walking, talking bible basher prone to hateful outbursts that is.

"Are you okay?" I ask worriedly as she hobbles painfully across the room. "Here, sit down." I gently take hold of her arm and guide her carefully towards her chair.

"Thank you, its not often I meet a young person such as yourself. Others are often too concerned with their own trivial lives..." She grimaces in pain as she sits down.

"Some might not agree." I answer thinking of how hurt Logan seemed the last time I saw him. "What happened to your leg?"

Um, that should have been what happened to your leg and arm because I could have sworn I just saw an enormous bruise located on her wrist as she absent mindedly rubbed her sore ankle.

"Oh, I just fell, dear, you know how it is."

Do I? I've had my fair share of drunken unexplainable bruising, so who am I to judge? This lady is entitled to her privacy and I'm sure somebody makes sure she's okay, not struggling and has a can opener… Fuck you, Logan.

"The phone is over there." The lady points to the small cabinet by the window. "Help yourself."

"Thanks." I smile sympathetically at the kind elderly lady as she winces once again in pain.

Picking up the phone, I desperately dial the mansion's number and shift from foot to foot in a fidgeting frenzy. I like a good fidget, you know, when I'm nervous, pissed off, piss drunk, tired, lonely, hungry, bored and high.

Come on, someone please pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up.

"Bonjour"

Oh shit, not him, anybody but him. Remy creeps me out, he's always so flirtatious. He makes me feel dirty every time I talk, smile or gaze in his general direction.

"Ugh…" Did I just groan? Aw, hell.

"Y'haven't met Gambit yet an' y'already groanin', I be privileged. Y'are a _fille_ ain't you?"

What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? I slam the receiver down in embarrassment instead of answering and Christ, I'm hyperventilating. I lower my head between my knees and breathe deeply demanding that I get a fucking grip.

"Dear?"

"Wrong number,"

"Yes, I see how that may cause such a reaction." She remarks wisely and smiling knowingly. "I remember when I used to act like that on the phone. Oh, it was so many years ago. So many, many years ago."

I grin in her direction politely and decide it's time to try this again without making an absolute fool out of myself. I reach for the receiver, dial the number and let it ring...

"Bonjour"

What, again? Is he doing this just to annoy me or does he have a fetish for causing over the phone heart attacks?

"Remy, I need to speak to Ororo." I state clearly as my heart races and my knees knock together. I'm not attracted to that Cajun flirt, nope, not me. I'm the only female he hasn't dated in this entire world. I'm sure he's even dated, dined and defiled the kind old woman sitting in this room with me.

"Chere!" He cries happily. "Did y'just ring?"

"No"

"Y'sure?"

"Yeah"

"Y'sure, y'sure?"

"Yes, Gambit."

"Y'sure, y'sure, y'sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure!"

"Are y'tellin' Remy porkies?"

"Yeah!" I screech, holding the receiver in a death grip. "I mean, no. Not at all. I'm telling the truth. The absolute and complete truth on the matter."

"Hmm, don' believe y'chere but where y' been hidin'? Gambit been worried. You're de best drinkin' partner he's ever had. Course I'm not just sayin' dat because of de… All y'need to know is dat Gambit may kiss many a pretty _femme_ but he never tells. Dat would be sacrilege, an' nobody wants t'hear bout' Remy's women anyway…"

"What are you rambling about?"

"Don' tell Gambit's he's dat easily forgotten." He purrs mockingly down the phone with a crackle.

"I won't tell you then…"

"_Merde_," He curses, the French causes me to fidget even more so. "Y'disappoint Gambit, Chere."

"Whatever," I sigh heavily and scratch my head in confusion.

"So, where y'at?"

"Canada. There are mountains. I'm living in a shack with no electricity. There isn't a can opener and it's freezing." I answer twirling that phone cord around my fingers.

I can't understand why I'm so nervous when I talk to him. No, I don't fancy him. Jubilee, now she's the girl that has the hots for him. I swear she melts into a puddle of molten lava every time he passes her by in the corridor. God forbid his hand should accidentally brush against her shoulder when he reaches for the peanut butter.

"That's where he dumped y'then?"

"What, Logan? Have you seen him, is he okay?" I demand fiercely, the fidgeting rearing it's ugly head again as I begin to rearrange the vase of flowers and numerous address books on the table.

Oh God, I hope he's okay. If that asshole dares die before I have the chance to make amends for being spiteful, I'd never forgive myself. I know he won't stay dead, but he can die. If it's a dangerous mission somebody might catch him and find a way to stop him from healing. Then what would I do?

"Not recently, de two bit bastard is still on his mission. I have de sneakin' suspicion he don' wanna hang out wit' Remy, though. De man's claws are very sharp, an' Gambit only said good mornin' t'de _homme_."

"Logan's not a bastard, he's a knucklehead. Hold on, you mean, he attacked you? Why would he do that? What did you do, did you steal his beer?"

"Non, Gambit's no beer thief. It be because of what happened _dat night_, Chere." Remy answers emphasizing heavily on the words that night.

"Would you care to explain?" I hiss impatiently.

"Remy made a promise t'Stormy, no chargin' her hairy friend."

"And?"

"After he caught us havin' fun, de _homme_ made some wild accusations about Gambit's character." Remy answers trailing off.

I made out with him and Logan caught us. Well, that doesn't sound too bad, does it?

"Of course, Remy's sure de heavy pettin' didn't help matters."

"It was _just_ heavy petting then?"

"Oui,"

Thank God for that. For a moment there, I thought we'd had both stripped butt naked and had boisterous and lust filled sex on the kitchen table. Now that would piss Logan off, but some harmless heavy petting? Sometimes I just can't understand the guy.

"When y' comin' back?"

"I don't know, Remy" I whisper gloomily, the tears wanting to dance across my cheeks. I don't know if I still have a life there. "Can you get Ororo for me?"

"Sure, anythin' for y'chere."

Oh, why did he have to say that? Now I feel the guilt settling in my stomach again.

Holding the phone to my ear and waiting patiently, I hear raised voices and shuffling in the background. "Remy, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me by that absurd name?" Storm questions with an air of astonishing grace. "Rogue, is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." I respond awkwardly.

"How have you been, sweetie? Are you looking after yourself, do you have enough money, are you eating well, is something wrong?"

Damn, I've sent Ororo into a mothering frenzy. At least I can tell here I've certainly been keeping myself well fed.

"No, no, no, I'm fine." I just hope she listens and that sends a bag of coke my way. "I was just wondering about Logan, have you heard from him?"

"Not yet but don't worry, he can look after himself. You know him better then any of us." She sighs, the kindness in her voice stirring the tears yet again. "Look, I know you've had an argument. Logan wasn't very forthcoming when I tried to talk to him. This isn't me prying you understand, but I feel at fault."

I don't reply, I only wait patiently for her to continue. Over the last few days, the one lesson I have learnt is that waiting and patience go hand in hand together.

"I asked him to talk to you." Ororo says sounding as though she's admitting a major sin. "You both needed each other and I thought if I only found some way to make you talk. You see, that's where the mentoring scheme came in..."

"We have a mentoring scheme? Storm, I have no idea what you're talking about." I whisper harshly, fully aware that the kind old lady is still in the room. I always feel if I swear in front of the elderly, I'll be struck down by lightning and I'm not talking about Storm's mutation.

"Are you telling me, Logan never mentioned the mentoring scheme once?" She questions sounding stunned.

"What did you expect, when has Logan ever discussed anything with me? I'm obviously not worth the extra use of oxygen."

"I'm sorry, Rogue." Storm declares softly. "He should be in contact over the next few hours or so. Do you want to leave a message, I'll..."

"As a matter of fact, yeah, you can tell him when he can be bothered to come back, he can bring a fucking can opener!" I scream viciously and slam the phone down.

To hell with swearing in front of the kind old lady. How could they both do that to me? I feel so used, like some kind of pet project to be experimented on. I should have seen this coming. I have a piece of advice for all you folks at home; Life is full of secrets and lies, so don't be surprised when you get screwed over. Especially by your so called family.

"Dear, are you okay?" The kind old lady asked me worriedly from her chair.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I'm always fine. Thanks for letting me use your phone." I answer feeling emotionally drained.

Please tell me why I was refusing myself admittance to the local bar today? Oh, that's right, I was waiting for Logan. Well fuck him, he's as bad as my fucking parents.

The pope is catholic, bears shit in the woods and Rogue allows herself to drown in vast amounts of liquor when she's fine. Why should I even attempt to change my behaviour? Nobody gives a crap about me and from now on I will be looking after number one and number one only.


	19. Hurt

_**A huge thanks to RogueNya, noro and Tsuki Rae for the reviews and to all the guys reading, adding this fic to their favs and alerts.**_

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**Hurt**

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If I've ever felt comfortable at anytime in my life, I don't remember. In Meridian my personality was stifled within an inch of its life, my parents just didn't understand me, and that's a cliché if I've ever heard one.

My time on the open road fared no better, let me tell you now, hitch hiking to Canada was one hell of a rip roaring ride. From avoiding the unsavoury weirdo's who lacked any morals, to meeting a world class cage fighter, it was one problem after another. I couldn't fit in in Meridian, I would never have wanted to on the road and it didn't matter how hard I tried at the mansion, it was still the same.

So please explain why anytime I haul my ass into a bar and suck the place dry of liquor, I feel content.

Yeah, of course you're right, its the affects of the alcohol and that's why I need to drink. Can you understand this is the only way I will ever be able to live in this world until I find my rightful place. I will drink first than ask questions later. Well drink and smoke a certain something. I believe I smell the whiff of Marijuana in my midst.

I eagerly inspect my surroundings in the bar, searching for the culprit. It must be old pig eyes over there whose standing flicking cigarette ash over the wooden floor. Oh, he's spaced out alright, his eyes are glazed over and he's looking right at me.

"Come join me, girl." He says in what I assume he regards as his seductive voice.

I would not agree usually, but this guy is smoking a rather enticing joint and I certainly need a drag or two.

So, I amble on over and sit on the bar stool beside him, flashing him a smile that would make Brad Pitt cum in his pants. Okay, I've had a drink, excuse my lewdness.

"You're the one drinking from the famous Wolverine's tab, huh?"

Well come on, you didn't really expect me to spend my last four measly dollars did you?

"Yep, Wolverine can be so generous when he wants to be." I reply finishing my beer and ordering another.

"Really?" He asks appearing surprised.

"Well no, actually. If he walked in here now, he would flip his lid and punch us both in the mouth." I remark with delight, knowing that will never happen. Logan's on a solo mission and he's miles away, thank God.

"I've heard the stories but he never sounded _that_ tough." He answers nodding towards the cage on the opposite side of the bar.

"You'd be surprised. He might not look like much, but he's a skilled fighter."

Logan would not like my new found friend at all and that's what makes him so attractive. Not in the way that you dirty minded people are thinking of, Jesus Christ, give me some credit.

Mr. Pig eyes is approximately five foot ten, his eyes are set too far apart and he's rather shifty looking with blond shaggy hair. I like my men taller, darker, somewhat handsome and those that don't resemble porky the pig, thank you very much. But there is one thing that will make me gravitate towards him though.

"How about I buy you a drink and you share _that_." I point at the half smoked joint he's clutching in his fingers.

* * *

"I don't think this was a very good idea."

"You said you wanted to go somewhere quiet."

"I've changed my mind." I utter in the darkness, my instincts screaming at me to leave.

I only wanted to step outside for some fresh air, the lights in the bar were making my eyes ache. I'm drunk and stoned, a lethal combination if I say so myself. I'm surprised at my current level of drunkenness though, I'm having trouble standing upright.

"I think I had too much to drink." I mumble into my hand, swaying on my feet.

"It's not the drink, sweetheart." Pig Eyes sneers, brushing a sweaty hand across my pale and clammy face. "I added a little something to your drink to make it that much sweeter."

Oh God, I learnt all about this in health class. Jean, she always said you have to be careful and always watch yours and your friends drinks just in case this happened. Pig Eyes has spiked my fucking drink. How could I have let this happen?

"What, cat got your tongue?"

My vision is gradually blurring, my head is swimming, my legs are trembling and I'm absolutely terrified. "Please, just let me go. I won't tell anyone." I beg, knowing that in my current state I have no other choice then to appeal to this guy's human nature.

"It isn't fun now, is it?" He demands dementedly, his stale breath tickling my throat.

"I don't..."

"You," Pig Eyes shouts, grabbing hold of my hair, throwing me against the brick wall and effectively pinning me with his body. "Were playing with me earlier, sending me signals, flirting. What did you expect to happen? Did you think I would just walk away? Did you, did you?"

"Please stop," I whisper petrified, tears falling. "You're hurting me."

"Am I?" He asks tauntingly, digging his fingers into the flesh of my shoulder. "Is this hurting you?"

I carefully nod my head, gazing into his eyes and searching for a scrap of humanity but I find nothing. I'm face to face with an utter psychopath and what scares me most is that I'm not in control of what happens to me next.

"Poor baby, let me kiss it better."

"N… N... No," I stammer, fighting to keep myself awake.

"Wrong answer." Pig Eyes calmly states his hands wandering over my body. "I've been watching you for days. You're all on your own and I chose you. You're mine and I'm done waiting."

I squeeze my tired eyes shut and wait for the inevitable, I'm too exhausted to fight. Suddenly, Pig Eyes is yanked off me with considerable force and I slide down the wall in relief and come to rest on the ground, shaking and weeping .

"I might have somethin' to say bout' that, Bub." A fierce voice growls.

I know that voice, but it can't be, he's supposed to be on a mission.

"She's my girlfriend..." Pig Eyes claims now appearing rather frightened himself.

I hear a crack and bury my face further into my hands, not wanting to witness anymore violence tonight. The crack is followed by a dozen or more thuds, grunts and pained moans.

"I ever catch you lookin' at her again, it won't be a beatin' next time, you'll be a dead man."

I peek out from behind my fingers and watch Pig Eyes receive a few sharp hefty kicks to his ribs as he lies motionless on the ground.

"Logan…" I mutter under my breath.

"Yeah," Logan replies, glaring at his unconscious victim. "You okay?" He quizzes, walking over and crouching down beside me. He brushes a calloused hand against my forehead and frowns. "You're burnin' up."

"He's been following me and I... It was my fault..." I sniff regretfully.

"Hey, now," He soothes in his typical gruff manner, drawing me into a hug. "I've got you, kid, you're safe."

Logan's right, I'm safe in his arms and presence. Pig Eyes can't hurt me when he's around. I have to tell him about the spiked drink but I feel so drowsy and nauseous, I can't fight it much longer.

"He..." Is all I manage to whisper before passing out against Logan's chest.


	20. Stone Cold Sober

_**My usual thanks to RogueNya and Tsuki Rae for reviewing and to everyone reading and adding this story to their alerts.**_

_**This is a pretty short chapter that I enjoyed writing. It's another attempt at redeeming Logan's character. More to come as soon as I get around to writing it.**_

_**Please review if you read, it makes it all worth while :)

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**Stone Cold Sober

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Why do I keep doing this to myself; I'm hungover, depressed and ever so lonely. In addition to my array of feelings and resentment. I'm now feeling revulsion and animosity towards every living person on this planet that is in anyway happy.

I'm also attempting to process the undeniably terrifying dream I've just woken up from. It was the strangest thing, absolutely crazy. There was a podgy guy, he spiked my drink. Then there was a deserted alley way and Logan.

Now I'm ready to admit that I'm without a doubt one hundred percent insane. Yeah, seriously fucked up and dreaming about Wolverine once again saving me from the darkness. Oh, he's my hero, every little girl should have one, he's so gallant. Christ, somebody pass me the sick bucket; this is a new low even for me.

Oh, well, time to crawl out of bed I suppose and greet the new day with a smile on my face and the much desired need to flip the bird to just about anyone really.

I reluctantly sit up groaning at the incessant pounding. Is my brain trying to tell me something or is it just refusing to play nice and join the full world of consciousness?

Okay, okay, okay on the count of three. One, two, three... I'm never drinking again.

Forget it, this is too difficult and I ache all over. Is it possible that I was run over by a bus during my rather intoxicated state? I'll stay in bed, its for the best I think. No need to put my body through the added pressure of trying to stand on my own two feet. I don't dare contemplate the consequences of such an action.

I gently lay my head on the pillow and slowly close my eyes and... Wait, was that a fucking spider? "Shit!" I cry, making a damn good effort to free myself from the sheets I'm currently tangled in.

Why is it always me? Can't those mean spiders go harass another victim, don't they see how scared I am?

What the hell is with these sheets? Have they got a mind of their own and how did I get so unbelievably twisted in the first place? Fucking devil sheets, that's what they are...

"Ah!"

I tumble out of bed, fall head first onto the solid bedside table and whimper miserably onto the unforgiving and unvarnished floor boards.

Fucking hell, that hurt. Why me, why me? What did I ever do to deserve this?

As I lay deliberating my ever so implausibly ridiculous life, the door swings open and in steps a breathless Wolverine with his claws unsheathed.

"What the hell happened?" He demands his eyes darting around the room in search of an intruder.

"It was the spider and the devil sheets." I mumble, rubbing the painful bump already forming on my forehead. "You're not supposed to be here." I swiftly add. If Logan is here, does that mean that last night was not a dream, then? "It wasn't a dream was it? I was and you were, then he, well, for some of the time he, he was and then you!" I shout accusingly.

Logan arches a bushy eyebrow and examines me closely with a fixed unrelenting stare. He sheathes his claws and walks over to my poor beaten up and battered body.

"You hit your head." He states, looking down at me with evident worry.

"They won't leave me alone, I must be on their hit list. It's harass the girl that loathes you. I hate them and they hate me. Mutual dislike causes conflict, you know. That's how wars are started and if they want a war..."

"Okay," Why is he studying me like that? All I'm saying is that the spiders seem to know what they're doing. "Up you get."

"You're still not supposed to be here." I chide reaching for his hand. He pulls me to my feet with ease and guides me to the bed.

"Lay down."

"I can't." I grumble disapprovingly. "I told you they have a vendetta against me."

"You ain't makin' too much sense, Kid." Logan replies. "That must have been one hell of a whack you took to your noggin'."

"Are you saying I'm crazy?" This conversation is making complete sense to me. "I'm not turning into my mama am I? They said she had funny turns. She thought she could talk to God, he kept appearing to her in the pantry when she would reach for the corn starch."

"Yep, one hell of a whack." He remarks candidly. "You're gonna need ice on that, it looks pretty nasty."

"Logan?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not God, are you?" I ask earnestly turning to face him.

He blinks and his eyebrow shoots almost to his hairline. "That does it, I'm callin' the Doc."

"I know we're not in a pantry but it can happen elsewhere, can't it? And you're always saving me." I mutter knowingly. "I thought only angels saved people but you don't have wings, do you?"

"Jesus Christ," Logan groans. "How hard did you hit that head of yours?"

"I hit my head?"

"Yeah and the fur ball needs to check you over" A fur ball? Is he sure that I'm the one that hit my head? "Stay there and don't move." He orders calmly. "I'll be back in a minute, if I can find the damn communicator."

Logan strides quickly out of the room leaving me to sit nervously on the unmade bed. I don't understand why he's so worried, I feel perfectly fine. I am fine, except for the scratches on my arms and cheek, the bruising on my shoulders and upper arms and the considerable bump on my forehead, I'm as right as rain. But where did that bump come from, did I hit my head or something?


	21. With A Little Help From My Friends

_**Thanks to everyone reviewing, reading ect. This is one of the longest chapter yet, I think. I went slightly overboard, just don't kill me for the ending. I was personally cheering ever so slightly and the next chapter will be the last (Maybe)**_

_**BloodStainedThorns - Yep, dark Rogue is the best but unfortunately no Rogan 'lovin' in this fic, sorry.**_

_**RogueNya - One hell of a bump ;) and of course she's right about the spiders LOL.**_

_**Tsuki Rae - Poor you! Is it those sugar highs that are causing you to hit your head? **_

_**Brit-Babe191 - Hope you're having the time of your life sunning yourself in Africa :) Yes, Logan is God, in fact if he started a religion I would be first in line to join and I'm guessing you'd be the second! **_

**And lastly I'm not a Doctor. I watch House but that doesn't count :P So please don't flame me for anything medical.**

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**With A Little Help From My Friends**

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Ten minutes have passed and I'm still sitting waiting obediently on the bed. Wait a minute, obediently, what a strange word to use. I would understand if someone had asked me to sit here but I'm the only one that's currently rotting away in this cabin.

What on earth happened last night, why can't I ever remember my nightly outings after drinking? I think it was last night anyway, it's already dark outside. How long have I been sleeping for exactly?

I heave myself off the bed with great difficulty and stumble to my feet. Honestly, I'm never drinking again if this is what happens when you've had one too many. Damn drunkenness and hangovers.

I almost topple over as I attempt to take a step forward and I disturb the sheets that are piled in an established heap on the floor. I gaze down and witness a sizable, black, gruesome, horrid mass of legs scuttle across the ground and seek shelter under my duffel bag.

"Spider!" I hiss and dash out of the room as fast as my legs will carry me.

Walking with due care to check that every step I take remains spider-less, I dawdle into the entrance/lounge/kitchen. Jesus, my head is stinging. Placing a hand to my forehead I discover a titanic bump and I mean titanic, as in the size of the ship in its whole entirety before it was hit by the iceberg type of bump. Did I hit my head?

"Thought I told you to stay put."

I look up and spot Logan standing beside the unlit fireplace clutching the communicator in his hands. "And a hi to you, too." I scoff back. "I think I hit my head..." I pause mid sentence and my eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of the six foot guy clothed in his regular jeans, wife beater and leather jacket, the same guy who left me stranded here for days. "When did you get back?" I demand. "You could have told me. Here I am worrying about your ass and you're perfectly... Why are you looking at me like that?"

He frowns as he stuffs the communicator into his pocket. "This the first time you've seen me tonight?"

If my head wasn't suffering to such a degree, I would be calling him every name under the sun and what an idiotic question to ask. "Yes," I answer sarcastically. "Jeez, it's cold in here, start a fire or something will you."

My knees buckle from underneath me as I walk to the couch and Logan helps me to my feet. "That was strange, it must be all that liquor finally catching up with me." I utter offhandedly. "Hey, you started the fire. That was quick, good for you. I suppose all that training comes in handy."

"There's no fire, kid." He grunts, placing his hands on my shoulders and gazing into my eyes.

"Yes, there is. I can see the flames." Why is he contradicting me?

"The flames?"

"Yeah, the flames. No self respecting fire would be seen without any flames." I scold him. I thought everyone knew that, poor Logan, is must have been a tough mission.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

He lifts me clean off of my feet and places me lightly on the couch. "The Doc's on his way, we should be okay until then, but you need to stay off those feet of yours."

"Doc?" I ask taken aback. "What about Snow White, is she coming too?"

"Just concentrate on stayin' off those feet." Logan orders with a growl. "I need to make another call."

I watch him walk out of the cabin and I glare at my feet. "You heard him guys, now behave yourselves."

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"God damn snow" Logan grumbles brushing the snow flakes out of his unruly hair. "Good thing he's bringin' Ro' along for the ride."

He stomps over to the kitchen counter and wraps some ice in a tattered cloth.

"Grumpy!" I shriek excitedly. Now if only I could remember the others.

"Here."

I stare at the bundled scrap of cloth in Logan's hand. "I'm trying to name all the seven dwarfs." I say petulantly. "You're interrupting my train of thought."

"Use this, it'll help with the swellin'." He remarks solemnly.

"Why so serious, Logan?"

My companion sighs heavily and settles beside me. "Cause' a head injury can be fatal, Kid."

"Wow, I feel sorry for anyone who has a head injury." I smile at Wolverine and pat him reassuringly on the thigh. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were tryin' to piss me off." He growls placing the cloth to my forehead.

"Get away." I whine slapping his hand and taking the cloth. "I don't need it. I don't have one of those head thingies."

"Just humour me, okay?"

"Dopey!" I squeak, dropping the cloth and clapping my hands together in glee.

"Marie!" Logan barks sharply.

"Did you recall one too?" I question enthusiastically. "So far we've got... Um... Aw man, I forgot."

"Listen to me." He demands and I nod my head. "You need to keep this on your forehead until they arrive, understand?" Again I nod, of course I understand. "Can you do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you, Logan, you know that."

He regards me silently for a few minutes but breaks out of his musings when the sound of an aircraft disturbs our heart to heart.

"About damn time. Fur ball flies slower than One Eye did."

Wolverine jumps to his feet and runs to the bedroom emerging with my duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

"Leave that here!" I screech, pointing a finger at him. "You're aiding and abetting the... The... I bet its in there now, waiting, just waiting for the right time to strike and then there will be millions."

He shrugs off my anti-spider tirade and throws the bag down at my feet. "Logan, we'll be over run. It'll find a mate and settle down, have babies and they will find me. They have an agenda..."

"Where the fuck is Hank?"

The door opens and in walks a giant animal, a monster covered in slow flakes. "My apologies for the delay, Logan. We've had some grave..."

"I don't give a shit. The Kid's gettin' worse!"

I scoot away from the angry voices and perch on the edge of the couch wiping my sweaty palms on my pants legs. I feel like I'm locked in a sauna, a sauna plagued with spiders and hairy monsters. "Logaaaaan," I moan, a bead of sweat crawling into my eye. "Can you put the fire out now, I'm boiling. I know the flames are pretty but its hot, way too hot. I'm pale, I burn easily and we have no lotion."

"See what I mean? I'm freezin' my fuckin' nuts off, this place is a damn icebox."

"Yes, indeed." The monster is wearing spectacles and clothes, how strange. Not as strange as the colour of his fur though. "How long has she been displaying such symptoms?".

"Bout' an hour"

"Logan?" I whisper, beckoning him closer.

"What?"

"He's blue."

"Well, I believe I've seen enough. We should continue the diagnosis in the X-Jet." The monster declares leading both myself and my feral friend to the waiting aircraft.

* * *

"And do you remember how hard you hit your head, Rogue?"

"You're blue" I announce baffled. "Logan, he's blue."

"Yeah, I can see that, kid." Logan grunts, kneeling beside me and strapping me into the seat. "Don't want a repeat of last time, do we?"

"Last time?" I ask puzzled. What happened last time and is that the reason why I'm being treated like an invalid?

"I'll tell you about it later, now answer the good doctors question."

"You can't be the doctor, where's Jean?" I visually search the confines of the X-Jet but I can't see Jean or Scott for that matter.

Logan and the new doctor share an anxious look as I fidget in my seat. "And I thought you said we were going to meet Doc? He's too tall and he doesn't even have a beard... and he's blue." I complain eyeing the dwarf impersonator. "Did I mention he's blue?"

"I apologise if my appearance startles you." The monster smiles shifting in his seat beside me.

Startles me, no, intrigues me yes.

"If it bothers you that much, kid, don't look at him." Logan snorts with a smirk, standing up and folding his arms.

"So, how hard would you say you hit your head?"

Who hit their head, is he talking to me?

"No, you must be mistaken," I reply politely. "There's nothing wrong with my head."

"I believe we're going around in circles." The monster sighs removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I think we all agree on the fact it was a hard knock to the forehead, yes?"

"Yeah," Logan answers. "One hell of a crack."

"Right, and the symptoms are the following; Hallucinations, dizzy spells and to a certain degree, memory loss?"

"Don't forget the shit she keeps spoutin'."

Well that's rather harsh. I feel sorry for the poor person he's talking about.

The doctor scratches his chin and scribbles the symptoms down on a sheet of paper. "Any spells of unconsciousness or bouts of sickness?"

Wolverine shakes his head. "Ugh, I hate flyin'." He groans as he lowers himself into a seat as the X-Jet takes off albeit rather shakily. "How bout' keepin' this thing in one piece, Ro'!"

"I'm trying my best, Logan." Storm remarks gravely. "How's she doing Hank?"

"As well as can be expected, Ororo. It'll be easier to examine her in the med bay." He stands, clutching his clipboard and pen. "Let me know if there is any further deterioration in her condition, I believe I'm needed up front."

I observe the more than friendly interaction between Storm and the monster as he greets her with a kiss to the cheek and seats himself in Jean's chair. Maybe Jean herself is a little too busy with Scott to co-pilot the X-Jet or the Professor most likely decided that two X-men were enough for this rescue mission. I still don't understand why we needed to be rescued though, is Logan fed up with my presence already, do I bore him? Yes, that's more understandable. This is a mission to save his sanity but I'm not the problem its those spiders, they've driven him to the brink.

"Logan, those pesky, troublesome, spiteful, foul and heinous pests will never leave us alone, we have to stand our ground." I inform my partner in crime. "No, I have a better idea. You can stand our ground, fight off the masses because you're brave and I can visit home for a little while."

"Home?" He asks, unfastening his seat belt and turning to face me.

"I haven't seen my folks in ages. I bet they'll be happy to see me." I wonder why it's been so long since I've seen them, dad must have been busy. He was setting up his own business the last time I saw him and Mom was feeling slightly run down.

"You can't, Marie."

"Why not? I'm homesick and my parents would love to see me, wouldn't they?" My lips quiver into a sorrowful frown and I gaze at Logan. "They would, wouldn't they?"

He sighs, hunkers down in the empty chair beside me and drapes an arm over my shoulders. "Anyone in their right mind would want to see you, kid, see you and get to know you better. I know I would and nothin' you ever did would change that."

I thought he already knew me well. We would be considered friends, wouldn't we?

"You're nice, Logan, so sweet." I whisper drowsily, my head resting comfortably on his shoulder.

"I ain't a nice guy..."

"Yes, you are." My eyes close and I fall into a blissful sleep as panic erupts around me.

* * *

My eyes pop open and I'm greeted by the sight of a concerned Dr. Henry McCoy peering over me. "How many fingers am I holding up?" He immediately demands, his fingers appearing in my line of vision.

Wow, he really needs to work on his communication skills. Where was the, 'Hi Rogue, how are you feeling this fine day?'

"Three." I answer sullenly. I'm in the fucking med bay, they know I despise it in here. It's way too white and clinical for a start, I can't understand why they refurbished it in the first place. Okay, Jean and her Phoenix friend might have destroyed a great portion of the lab but all that was needed was a slight tidy up and bit of dusting.

"Yes, correct. I should introduce myself," Dr. McCoy says holding out a hand for me to shake. "I'm..."

"Uh, Hank, I know who you are."

"Ah, your memory has returned then and there are no lasting effects?"

"I guess so, but my head hurts." A bright and rather blinding light is flashed in my eyes. "Was that really necessary?" I groan, blinking away the little dancing spots swimming in my vision.

"Of course, we can't be too careful with your health, can we?" He advises me softly. "Now, I think we need to recap the last few days..."

"I hit my head, it hurt like hell, I was talking an absolute load of crap and then I passed out on the X-Jet."

"I couldn't have put it better myself." Hank replies. "But that was a significant head injury, Rogue, you've been unconscious for four days. There was sufficient swelling to your brain."

"Four days?" I cry, sitting up. "I've been out four damn days?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so and there have been a great deal of unpleasant occurrences that you've missed."

"I didn't miss them, I slept through them, Hank. What's been happening?"

"I believe Logan has volunteered to explain them to you." Beast responds avoiding my questioning stare. He volunteered? I think Henry meant to say that Storm has once again forced Logan into talking to me.

"Where is he then?" I demand impatiently, the suspense killing me. I want to know what the hell has been happening while I've been playing the part of Sleeping Beauty.

"He left ten minutes ago, he needed a bite to eat and a shower. Logan hasn't left your side since you've been here." He smiles and pats me on the shoulder. "I'll let you rest, Ororo is waiting for news on your condition."

"I can rest in my room." I inform his retreating back.

"If its all the same, I would rather you recuperate here until I'm convinced you're well enough to rejoin your peers." And with that said, Hank walks out of the room and leaves me here all alone to my recuperation.

* * *

This is fucking pointless, only five minutes have passed and I'm bored absolutely shitless. I don't need to recuperate or rest I'm damn well fine. There's nothing wrong with me at all. More importantly there is no television to watch, no magazines to read... And that does it. I won't lie here watching the seconds tick away on that fucking annoying clock.

I elevate myself carefully out of bed and look around the room. "Where the hell are my clothes?" I can't walk around in this hospital gown. Why the heck couldn't they leave my clothes on? Now everyone will know that I self harm, gossip like that will spread around the whole mansion like wild fire.

I firmly yank the drip out of my arm and watch the blood trickle down my skin in a trance. Once again the sight of my own blood calms me and I evaluate my situation. I find something, anything to wear, sneak upstairs, pack my stuff, then I leave and this time I will be leaving alone.

Peeking out of the sliding doors, I sigh contentedly when I discover the coast is clear. I tip toe into the room opposite and close the doors safely behind me. Phew, that was easier than I thought it would be, now for phase two. Noting that one of the cubicles curtains are drawn I spurt out a quick apology. "Sorry about this, I just need to find something to wear. I can't go around flashing my ass at innocent bystanders, can I?"

Although that could help me with the difficult task of finding a ride, hitch hiking can be such a pain. "Bingo!" I dress quickly into a long sleeved hooded jacket and grey sweat pants that are embellished with the X-Men logo.

"You're rather quiet, you know. Were you hurt badly or something?" I creep over and peer through the curtain. "Don't worry, I've found some clothes and..."

Oh, its something alright. I step through the curtains and approach the bed. "Uh, hello?" I whisper faintly, my voice trembling.

I lift the sheet with a curious and quivering hand and brace myself for the unthinkable. Someone's underneath there and they aren't moving. "Holy fucking shit!" I howl, jumping back as my eyes rest on my discovery. "He... He can't be. You can't be, can you?"

I scold myself for being so... Why am I scolding myself? This can't be happening, it can't be. Walking gradually closer, I place a hand on his ashen skin and wait. Wait for him to wake but he won't be. I know he won't be, he's cold. He's as cold as ice.

"Bobby?" I whimper. "Is this a joke? No, it can't be, you don't have a sense of humour, do you?" I throw my hands over my mouth and wince at my choice of words. I'm insulting my ex-boyfriend, my seemingly dead ex-boyfriend. "Sorry…"

Oh my fucking God, Bobby died. Look at him, he's really dead. We'll never exchange insults again because he's dead. I'll never be able to gaze into those beautiful baby blue eyes when I tell him he has a small penis and he was useless in bed.

Bobby's dead. Bobby has died. Bobby isn't breathing anymore.

Why the fuck didn't someone tell me Bobby had died?


	22. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

_**RogueNya - I'll admit now that I'm really not a great fan of Bobby.**_

_**Noro - Here's the chapter :)**_

_**Amee Lyn - Nice to see a new reader.**_

_**

* * *

**_

**Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own**

_Tough, you think you've got the stuff_

_You're telling me and anyone_

_You're hard enough_

_You don't have to put up a fight_

_You don't have to always be right_

_Let me take some of the punches_

_For you tonight _

_- U2

* * *

_

He wanted to name our first born child, Bobby. He said that all great children were named after their parents. Think of the potential our child would be born with, he'd announced his eyes glistening with enthusiasm .The child of Iceman and Rogue would be a force to reckoned with, a super hero of the ages, a mutant of the people.

It was a pipe dream, a castle in the sky, to be honest, it was wishful thinking. We were fifteen and persistent day dreamers, our perceived future self's were romantic, passionate and glamorous. We would never argue, fight or disagree. We promised to discuss our differences in a calm and controlled manner. No, we would never go to sleep angry at each other and yes, we would love one another for forever and a day.

Of course, this would never last. Two years passed by and the cracks began to show, neither of us dared to admit that our seemingly perfect relationship was failing. Now four months, fifteen days and numerous hours later, I'm crouched on my knees beside the mansions garage, digging through the clotted earth under my favourite scrap of shrubbery.

"Thank fuck," I mutter to myself, relieved as I clutch the tin container in my shaking hands.

Get a grip, I need to get a damn grip. I resented Bobby, hell, I was close to hating him and at times. I fantasized about beating him black and blue. Yet, I can't banish the pain. The pain of witnessing him lying there dead, pale and lifeless.

* * *

I climb the stairs in a trance, my mind muddled with snapshots of our life together. Our first Christmas, Bobby bought me a ten dollar gift voucher to spend in Wall mart. Not the most romantic gift but it was the thought that counted, right? Hand in hand we walked through the store and I purchased a snow globe. It might not have been the most decadent of objects but I believed that it had significance.

That would be the snow globe that is currently living a lonely existence under my bed, hidden from the view of others.

Shit.

I turn the corner and am face to face with an openly sobbing Kitty. Oh and Jubilee too. "Rogue." She greets coldly.

"Jubilation."

"I don't know if you heard, but..."

"I heard." I reply, attempting to keep the emotion out of my voice.

We both stand there in silence listening to Kitty weeping and I have never felt so uncomfortable in all my life. I clear my throat and attempt to excuse myself before I say something that I just might regret.

"Wait," Kitty sniffs. "You, you won."

"Won what?" I ask understandably confused.

"I thought you... Look you won. When Bobby was, before he. His last words were about you." She sobs, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Oh" I shuffle my feet and gaze at the floor wishing I had taken another route to my room. This really isn't a conversation I want to be having.

"He said he was sorry, he wished... he, he wished he'd chosen you." Shadow Cat wails mournfully.

"Come on, Kit, I'll run you a nice hot bubble bath." Jubilee consoles her placing a hand on her back.

"Jubes, about Gambit…" I state bluntly. I want my best friend back, only now do I realize how much she truly meant to me.

"Not now." She informs me calmly.

Okay, maybe not the best time to bring the subject up but at least I made the first move. Hopefully she will now forgive me or at least find it in her heart to try.

I watch them both walk away and I stand in the hallway still holding the tin in my hands. I sigh to myself. I won't get chocked up over that bastard, he treated me like shit. He doesn't deserve absolution just because he felt sorry for himself as he lay dying.

I step into my room and close the door quietly behind me. I glare at the duffel bag beside my bed and pray there's not a spider in there.

Strolling to the en-suite, I turn on the light and peer into the mirror scrutinizing every aspect of the reflection that I'm confronted with. Jesus, what have I done to myself? My face is gaunt, my eyes are haunted and my skin is paler then usual. I might as well be a walking corpse. My forehead is a bruised mess and my hair is dull and lifeless.

I roll up my sleeves and study the fortitude of scars, cuts and gashes gracing the inside

of my arms and I feel sick. Even now witnessing the evidence of my self harming, I crave the feeling of a razor blade or a piece of glass against my skin. I want to see the blood, no, I need to see the blood. Oh God, how did I allow my life to spiral beyond my control?

I haven't been the one in charge for months, the overwhelming desire to kill the pain has. I've let it run wild, destroyed myself and now I'm just a shell.

I perch on the edge of the bath tub and submerge myself in my new found awareness. It's been a long time coming but what do I now do about it? Do I want to give up my self destructing lifestyle but more importantly do I have the strength inside me to fight the demons?

The bedroom door opens as I sit silently grasping the container.

"Hey" Logan addresses me in his usual gruff manner.

"Hey"

"What you doin' in here?" He asks, leaning against the door frame, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Thinking" I answer softly.

"You weren't supposed to leave the med lab."

"I know." He knows I don't like the med lab, so there's no need for me to provide a long winded explanation.

"What you got there?" Logan inquires nodding at the tin in my hands.

"Nothing." I mumble not able to look him distinctly in the eye.

"Marie…"

"Go away, Logan."

"No." He growls, appearing at my side and snatching the much guarded possession out of my grip.

I don't have the energy to fight him mentally or physically, so I stay seated utterly deflated as he opens the tin and removes the contents. His brow furrows as he gazes at the clear bag containing the assortment of drugs.

"Here." He remarks evenly, throwing the bag into my lap.

I blink twice and my jaw gapes open in surprise. Here I am waiting patiently for the onslaught to begin and he decides to dumbfound me with this mystifying reaction.

"Got anythin' to say?"

I fiddle with the bag and shake my head. No, I have nothing to say, nothing he would want to hear anyway. Logan and Bobby were right, I am a mess but I don't know how to make things right.

I look up at him in alarm as the tin crashes to the floor and Logan turns to leave.

"Where are you going?" I demand, springing to my feet.

"I'm done." He declares over his shoulder.

"But..."

"Do what you want, kid. You wanna fuck up your life, then fuck it up. I ain't gonna stand here and watch."

What does he mean, he won't leave again, will he?

The door slams shut and I sit back down in an attempt to compose myself. I think the time has come to make the decision. A decision that will affect how I live the rest of my life.

* * *

I loiter outside Logan's bedroom door, with an envelope clasped tightly in my hands attempting to gain the courage to walk in and confront him.

Ugh, this is ridiculous. He knows I've been standing here for the past ten minutes. That damn incredible hearing would have seen to that. Fuck it, I'm going in. No more avoiding this conversation. Four months is a long time to keep this under wraps. I haven't told a soul and look what's happened to me.

I take a deep breath in a half hearted effort to address my nerves and I open the door. Marching over the threshold with my head held high, I stare openly at his back.

Shit, this is going to be harder than I first thought. Logan is standing beside his bed stuffing clothes into a bag, not even pausing to look up and greet his visitor.

If I was a guy, I'd be demanding that I grow a pair, but I'm not. Which of course you knew and you didn't need me to remind you and... Oh, to hell with it.

"Logan?"

Okay, so he seems to be ignoring me and he's not folding any of his clean laundry.

"Look, just listen to me." Yeah, like he has a choice. "Remember that day in the Danger Room, you said if I ever needed to talk I should come find you? Well I'm here now and I need to talk."

Why is he still packing, did he not hear a word I just said?

"I know its taken me awhile," Now that is the understatement of the year. "I didn't want to bother anyone with my problems..."

This guy is going to listen to what I have to say, even if I have to knock him out and handcuff him to the bed. All in a nonsexual manner, that is. "Logan?" I shriek, stepping in front of him and grabbing his arm. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry!" And still nothing. He only stares blankly down at me.

Maybe it's too late. Have I finally driven away the one person I would consider my true family?

I need to show him that I'm willing to change and I do want to change. I don't like the person that I've become. I'm inconsiderate of others feelings, I'm sarcastic, rude, I'm a bitch and worst of all I have no respect for myself.

I dig furiously around in my pocket for the bag of drugs and I hope this works. I just can't believe the things that I'm willing to do for him. He raises an eyebrow as I flaunt the bag in front of his face and usher him into the bathroom. Without a seconds thought to the repercussions, I dump the contents into the toilet bowl and flush away my old life.

I really can't bare to stand here and witness my handy work. Those were my beautiful drugs.

"Here." I hand Logan the envelope. "If you still want to know what changed, read that." I walk to the door and rest my fingers on the handle. "I don't have the right to beg you to stay and don't worry, I won't. But if you decide you still care, you know where to find me." And with that rather emotionally mature speech made, I dart out of his room in desperate need of some fresh air.

* * *

"Johnny, what are you doing out here?"

My eyes automatically travel down to the large conspicuous bag at his feet.

"Thought I'd pay my respects." He replies, glancing at the graves of Jean, Scott and the Professor. "I could have saved him, I should have."

"What happened?"

I'm in two minds whether I want to know the details but nevertheless I stand here silently awaiting an answer.

"The mission," He sighs angrily. "I got separated from the others. He came back for me..."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It was!" He shouts, clenching his fists. "That bullet was meant for me, it had my name on it, Rogue!"

Bobby and his heroics, why am I not surprised? I never thought it would cost him his life though.

"You don't have to leave." I urge, taking his hand in mine and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I need to get away from here. Maybe I'll travel the world, see what it has to offer. You understand, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." I agree, smiling sadly. "Just stay in touch, you hear."

"Sure." He replies, returning the smile and releasing my hand. "I'll send you a postcard."

"You'd better."

"See you around, Marie." Pyro smirks at me, walking away, bag in hand.

"I hope so." I whisper regretfully.

My whole world is changing and not for the better. Now I'm the only one left. Bobby, John and Marie… I should have fought harder to help my friends when they needed me.

"The kid needs to sort his head out, he'll be back."

Oh my God, I was expecting the gruff owner of that voice to be the next departure in my ever changing life, not the voice of reason.

"Logan, but you were leaving."

Shit, does that mean that he still cares then, even after everything I've put him through.

"Thought you wanted to talk?" He sighs in response. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You weren't here." I remark bitterly. I'm only stating the truth, I shouldn't have to sugar coat it at all. "Anyway, you had enough to deal with." I hint, standing alongside Jean Grey's final resting place.

"I could have helped."

"How?" I demand, crossing my arms to keep out the cold. "This is something I have to deal with alone."

"You ain't alone though." Logan growls. "If the cures failin'..."

"What, huh? What are the almighty X-Men going to do?"

Fucking hell, why does every conversation we have escalate into an argument. Someone please fetch the duct tape before I alienate the entire world.

"I thought that whack to the head knocked some sense into you." Logan pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs deeply. "This ain't about the X-Men, Kid, it's about you."

My anger crumbles and I blink away the tears. "I'll be fine, Logan, I'm always fine."

"No, you ain't." He remarks with genuine concern.

"I am!"

"Pretendin' this ain't happenin', ignorin' the letter, that ain't considered copin', Marie..."

"I didn't ignore it!" I screech defensively.

"What, so you went to see the doctors then?" He snorts folding his arms.

"You know I didn't."

"Did you think they were sendin' the letter just for the fun of it?"

Fuck this fucking crap. I don't need to be lectured on my behaviour. I know I acted like an idiot.

"No, they were sending it to cover their own asses." I counter. "If the cures failing then I want to live my life to the full while I've still got the chance."

"You're makin' it sound like the end of the world." He responds gruffly.

"It is to me, Logan." I mutter miserably. "I just want to be normal."

"Kid, you are normal."

Yeah right, I'll never be able to live the life I dreamt about when I first took the cure.

"Come on, lets take this chat elsewhere. You're shiverin'."

* * *

"You're giving me a beer?" I comment in astonishment.

"It's been a rough night." Logan grunts sitting opposite me at the kitchen table.

"I'm sorry for what I said outside the cabin. I didn't mean it, any of it."

"Yeah, you did." He sighs, gulping half of his bottle of beer down in one swift action.

"I didn't..."

"Don't, just forget it."

I nod my head and take a sip from my bottle of Canadian beer.

"Why did you save me?" This is a question I've never dared ask him. What if he admits that he felt obligated or that I'm a nuisance.

"When?"

Oh, I guess he has saved me more than once, hasn't he.

"The first time, on the statue"

I begin to rip the label off the bottle, patiently waiting for his reaction.

A few minutes pass in sheer silence, I've knocked him for six. "Dunno." He responds cautiously. "Instinct, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Does it matter?" Logan challenges with an eyebrow.

"No, why would it." I reply dissatisfied.

"I made a promise, kid." He admits simply and there you have it, he felt obligated.

"Forget about that damn promise!" I cry, waving my arms in the air and instantly regretting it. My cuts still haven't healed and they never will if I carry on like this. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to."

Logan watches me for a minute or two and his eyes narrow. "You were in my room earlier askin' me to stay."

"Yeah, but not if you feel obligated because of that stupid promise. I'm not going to hold you to that forever."

"It ain't your choice and I made it for a reason."

I take a leaf out of Logan's book and gulp the remainder of my beer down in a matter of seconds. "Are you only talking to me because of Storm?"

He gazes at me with that damn poker face of his but tonight I want everything out in the open. "The mentoring scheme, Logan, I know about it."

"I heard," He scoffs. "Ro' told me." I cock my head silently to the side urging him to carry on with his explanation. "No one makes me do anythin' I don't want to do, that answer your question?"

"Your turn." I encourage him. "Ask me a question, anything. It's only fair."

"Where did you go those nights you disappeared?"

Damn him, he means the nights I spent at Doug's apartment, doesn't he? That and the jail cell with the pretty graffiti. I shift in my seat and look around the room. "I'm going to need another drink to answer that question."

"One more, kid, that's all I'm offerin'."

"Fine," I concede standing and walking to the refrigerator. "But you can't get mad."

He doesn't reply, only watches me closely.

"Logan!"

"I ain't gonna get mad." He growls, already sounding angry.

"You see, I sort of got myself arrested." I murmur peering into the fridge and taking my ice cold beer.

"What the hell did you do?" Logan snarls pounding his adamantium fist on the table.

"You said you weren't going to get mad."

"I'm _not_ mad!"

"Then why are you yelling at me?" I challenge sitting down and cracking open my bottle.

"I wasn't yellin'." He groans, refusing to make eye contact with me. "What did you do?"

"Some guy accused me of stealing."

"Did you?"

And here lies the problem. Okay, I just admitted that I wanted everything out in the open, but then again in some instances you should keep certain facts to yourself. Sometimes opening your mouth has consequences that far outreach your grasp, and I can't stomach another Danger Room session at the moment.

"Maybe, I don't know, I was drunk." I decided to go down the honesty route. You can't exactly lie to a man that owns a nose a blood hound would be proud to call their own.

"Marie..."

"I don't need the, you shouldn't steal speech, okay? I've learnt my lesson."

"You're tellin' me your ass got thrown in a cell for three days?" He questions finishing his beer and studying my face for any tell tale signs of a lie.

"Not exactly, no. I visited Doug for a few days."

"The dick with the drugs?"

"Kind of." I mumble, the bottle of beer hovering at my lips.

"Jesus," He mutters shaking his head.

"My turn. Why are you still here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I never figured you for the settling down type. There has to be a reason why you're still here." I watch him throw his empty bottle of beer in the trash and retrieve a new one.

"Ain't it obvious?" Logan announces. No, not to me it isn't. Jean Grey is the only reason that springs to mind. I shake my head as he sits himself down. "Kid, I don't do feelings."

"Don't go all shy on me." I moan, sipping my brew.

"Next question." He growls, refusing to discuss the previous topic. "How long you been doing that to your arms?"

I choke on a mouth full of beer and splutter incoherently into my hand. Fucking hell, what a question. "The truth?"

"The truth"

"A few months, I guess." I utter faintly.

"Why?" He demands, holding his beer in his hand.

"I don't know, my life was a mess and I didn't know what else to do. I can't explain it, it just happened and it felt right."

"What was goin' wrong with your life?"

That folks, is the sixty four million dollar question.

"After you left everything started to fall apart." I explain to him with teary eyes. "Then I spoke to my parents."

"Your parents?" He asks surprised, nursing his bottle of much loved beer.

"I rang them, it was stupid of me. They've disowned my butt and I'm not their daughter anymore, apparently."

I'm not upset, why would I be? I just want my parents to love me, but that's too much to ask. That doesn't really sadden me, it makes me fucking angry.

"They're idiots." Logan growls at me. "If they don't wanna know you, kid, then its their loss."

"Thanks." I whisper shyly through a watery smile.

He curtly nods his head and his attention is once again snared by his half drunken beer. "The mission, that note you left me. Where did you go?"

"You don't wanna hear about that." He sighs, sweeping a hand casually over his facial hair.

"Yeah, I do." I point out to him. "I want to know why you left me."

"Ro' called me, it was a dangerous mission, I volunteered." And now its my turn to raise an incredulous eyebrow. "There was a lab, they were testin' captured mutants. I had to infiltrate the place, gain intelligence, get out of there and hand it to the X-Men."

"And?" I know for definite there is more to this story then meets the eye.

"We were gonna surround the place, find a way in and release the mutants." He exhales finishing another beer in record time.

"But you didn't?"

"No, Ro' called me, she was worried about you and pissed at me."

"They went in alone, didn't they?" Oh God, oh God, oh God. "Without you."

"If I hadn't found you when I did, what the hell do you think would have happened?" He demands, tapping his fingers against the table and glaring at me.

I jump to my feet and begin pacing the kitchen floor. "It was my fault." I snivel, wiping the tears away angrily. "If you'd been there, he would still be alive, wouldn't he?" It's my fault, Bobby would never have died if I hadn't have decided to ring the mansion that afternoon. "He would, wouldn't he?"

"Don't..."

"Oh God, and I still hate him. He's lying down there dead and I hate him. I'm a monster." I whisper, tears cascading down my pale and scratched cheeks.

Logan steps towards me and pulls me into a bear hug. A hug that would have made all the difference in the world a few weeks ago, now it only compels me to cry harder.

"You ain't a monster, you're just human." He soothes me, resting his head on mine and brushing a hand though my hair.

I am a monster because I'm not only crying for the loss of Bobby but for my life too. I've lost my parents unconditional love once again, also my friends, my family and my shot at a normal life. When my mutation returns my dream husband will disappear as will the two point four children, the house with the picket white fence and the family dog. Why can't I be normal, does the world really hate me that much?

No, I remind myself. It's not all darkness and doom, I still have Logan. After everything I've done there is one person standing by me. This is the every cloud has a silver lining moment my mama was talking about.

I'll mourn Bobby's passing and I will rebuild my life however long it takes. Believe me when I say I'm going to be there every step of the way fighting, because life may be ugly now but I know with many positive changes and Logan at my side, I'm going to win. Ugly you ask? Ha, far from it, my life is going to be beautiful. 


	23. Stay Wide Awake

_**This story was never truly finished. I knew there was more I could squeeze out of it and I wasn't satisfied with the ending. It's still only going to be friendship between the pair, but if you squint I'm sure you'll see whatever you want. **_

_**If you truly are after some Rogan romance, I have the I Heart Rogan community floating about on this website somewhere. It's bursting with romance stories. **_

_**Personally, I like a Rogue at times that's a little conflicted, a bit of a mess. Not only one that needs saving but a girl's that's slightly tough. She's not a damsel in distress, yet she has an air of vulnerability about her.**_

_**The drugs - Now it's a little too easy and convenient for the writer to have the character flush them down the toilet swearing that they'll never touch the stuff again. It's also not fun… Not that there's anything fun about taking drugs, because there isn't. It's fun to write about though.**_

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter after it was first posted, and to those reading and reviewing over the past few months. You all gave me the kick up the backside that was needed to read through this story again, edit and then write this brand new chapter.**_

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**Stay Wide Awake**

_A world so dark _

_A world so cold_

_A world where only some will go_

_But not return, when will they learn_

_-Eminem_

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* * *

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The shadows eat away at my brain, I can see them crawling up the vast timber frames and bleeding into the darkness that surrounds my body. There are countless cobwebs in the boathouse, littering the ceiling. I don't shudder, I don't even blink and I'm not a great fan of spiders.

My _special _cigarette hangs loosely from my lips and I inhale the sweet aroma that eases the pressure in my mind. The pain begins to evaporate and float to the rafters, I feel at peace.

Logan searched my room, confiscating anything that smelt remotely like it didn't belong. I didn't argue because he had no idea that I kept a little something up in the attic. He doesn't even know I'm here right now, I haven't seen much of him today.

Storm wanted him by her side, Bobby's parents are visiting the mansion to accompany his body back to Boston in the X-jet. She thinks the X-Men and the tutors in particular need to shed a tear and say how sorry they are. I'm supposed to be there too, to meet his parents and pass on my condolences for the loss of their lying, cheating son. I know what I need to do and I plan on doing just that.

Slowly sitting up, I smile to myself and pluck the cigarette from my lips. It's been three days since I discovered Bobby's body in the med lab and Logan's spent almost every waking moment with me. I'm not sure if he's feeling guilty or he doesn't trust me, I guess it's a mixture of both. But he can trust me, I'm a very trustworthy individual… Most of the time.

Fighting to stand to my feet, my thoughts are a jumbled mass of contradictions. There's part of me that needs to see his parents, another part wants to pretend he's still alive. There are so many different sections of my brain hammering away at my every thought, I take another deep drag and savour the taste.

I promised Storm I'd make an appearance and even though I would prefer to stay here smoking the afternoon away, I gingerly rise to my feet. The carefully folded scrap of tin foil that binds my dried green escape together is held in my hand tightly. I need to hide it somewhere safe, Logan will never look in here.

It's an idea to hide your drugs in different places around your home. You never know when they might be found and instantly flushed. I can't use my favourite piece of shrubbery anymore, it's too close to the garage.

Tripping over a loose concrete slab close to the exit, I crouch down, placing a hand on the ground to steady myself. If I can prise the slab from the earth, then I can slip the tinfoil underneath and nobody would be any the wiser.

I've been using paper for the joints, I had no other choice. This is a school, so there was plenty of plain paper lying around. My grinder was one of the first things Logan pocketed and there was nothing I could do to stop him. The sticker on the lid was a large cannabis leaf, and my pleas fell on deaf ears. He didn't believe it was only for decoration and I'd never used it before.

The fact that he can smell lies is something my brain has a hard time understanding. We have a bond and at times I think he'll look past my imperfections like a true friend. Sadly that never seems to happen, but he always tells me he's only doing his job. I hope Logan doesn't see our friendship as only that, but he denied it during the talk in the kitchen.

Smiling as the tinfoil slides perfectly into place, the slab falls with a thud and I calmly walk out of the exit, closing the door behind me. Blinking in the winter sun, I idly wonder if Storm has used her mutation to banish the snow. It's usually a sea of white this time of year and I know Bobby would have appreciated a snow ball fight in his honour.

My tatty green converse slip through the mansion grounds and I loiter by the iron fence, gazing at the road that leads to yet more expensive mansions. Knowing I can't take the joint inside with me, I smoke the remainder of my chosen sedative.

It doesn't take long to feel the affects and I've smoked several over the past hour or so. I needed to calm my nerves and I couldn't walk in there first without the pain melting away. My brain's clogged with happy thoughts and I take that as a good sign, it tells me I've made the right choice.

Stubbing the _special _cigarette out on an fence, I flick it out of the grounds and watch it land in the grassy verge. Wrapping my arms around myself, I glance back at the mansion deciding it's time to head back in and shown my face.

* * *

I don't know how I made it to the kitchen, but I needed to find something to disguise the smell on my clothes and hair. I'm chewing spearmint gum and spraying air freshener over my body, coughing at the stench. Sometimes I think my life could be made into a film, or maybe even a novel. I could always write an autobiography and sit outside the gates swapping hard backed copies for a single pill.

Making sure my arms are completely covered by the fabric of my hooded sweatshirt, I throw the air freshener back into the cupboard and slip out of the kitchen.

My eyes dart across the corridor and I brush a shaky hand through my long hair. I'm hearing voices all around me and I swear that somebody's watching my every move. My stomach sinks and I come to an abrupt stop outside the office. Staggering slightly and convinced the door handle just moved, I place a finger against the brass door knob and stare in fascination.

Minutes or hours might have passed by the time I snap out of my musings, I'm not sure. All I know is at one point the door opened and now everybody in the office is looking at me. I step over the threshold and dig my twitching hands deep into my sweatshirt pockets.

Refusing to meet anybody's questioning gaze, I eye the door instead and realise that Jubilee was the one that opened it. She's still not talking to me because of Gambit, and she strides past, sitting herself back on the couch beside a crying Kitty.

Storms seated at the Professor's desk, her hand grasping hold of Bobby's mom's wrist. They're both in tears and Bobby's dad has his arm draped across his wife's shoulder. My eyes flicker to the far corner of the room, Logan is leaning against the panelled wall his gaze pinned squarely on me.

I stare back at him, knowing full well he can smell only the lavender with a hint of honey blossom. My lips twitch and the urge to take this situation seriously is slowly being overthrown by my crumbling mind.

"Rogue," Storm calls, and I break away from his gaze, turning to the grieving threesome instead. "You must remember Bobby's parents."

They both turn to look at me and my shoulder begin to shake with amusement. Did I really think they were a threesome? Oh. My. God. "Yeah, I remember. They wanted nothing to do with Bobby after he came out…"

Storm gasps, her eyes turning white and she squeezes Bobby's mom's hand. "This isn't the time." She scolds, the mist clearing in her vision.

"Don't worry, Bobby isn't… _Wasn't_ gay," I announce, the giggle erupting from my lips, "He only dumped me so he could bang her over there." Bending over, I hold my stomach and tears of laughter build in my eyes. "He was as straight as they come, and liked sex. You're not happy with him right now, are you? He's forced you to come all this way and you can't even apologise for…"

"Logan, get her out of here." Storm commands, swapping anxious looks with him.

Like he needed telling, he was already marching towards me when the laughter started.

Grabbing hold of my arm non to gently, he attempts to haul me to the door and I can't stop the laughter. It's oozing out of every pore and I can't stifle it. I need a key to lock it away or another joint… That's what I need, a smoke. He throws open the door and as I'm dragged away from the office, I glance back and shout, "I'm sorry for your loss!" at the mortified faces.

* * *

Shoving me roughly into another room, Logan slams the door shut and I hear the frame crack. That only causes another fit of giggles, causing his face to turn a further shade of crimson. I start having my doubts that he's blushing with embarrassment when he unsheathes a set of his claws and plunges his fist against the wall.

They puncture through the wallpaper and the dry wall begins to crumble, lightly dusting his boots. I bite my lower lip, desperately trying to strangle the laughter before I'm on the receiving end, but I can't control myself. I welcome the laughter because the pain is too much for me to handle. To lose somebody you cared about deeply, it's the worse pain I've ever felt.

"Sit. Your. Ass. Down." Logan orders, pointing a claw at an antique style chair and taking a threatening step in my direction when I hesitate.

In my hour of need, the laughter seems to have died away, only to be replaced by the suffocating grip of paranoia. I know what is, I know what it feels like and I can't stop my thoughts from being poisoned.

"I know what you were all doing in there." I inform him, refusing to back down and let them get away with it. He cocks an eyebrow and sheathes his claws, coming closer to me. "He's not really dead, you're all pretending. You're all trying to shock me into changing, but it won't work…"

"You proud of yourself and the way you acted in there?" He snarls, ignoring my tirade and crowding my space until I fall into the chair. "They've lost a fuckin' kid, and you walk in there with a grin on your face?" I shrug my shoulders and he narrow his eyes, his face inches from mine. "This day weren't about you and your desperate fuckin' need for attention!"

I shift in the seat, staring at the empty bookshelves that sit at the far side of the small room. There's barely enough space for Logan in here, let alone the furniture. I don't let any of his words sink in because I know this is all an act. He isn't really mad at me and Bobby isn't dead. I'm not going to sit here and listen to this crap.

Standing up, I'm immediately pushed back into the seat and set upon by one of the best actors I've ever witnessed. "Sprayin' that shit all over yourself won't fool me either." Logan growls, folding his arms over his burly chest. "One whiff of your scent and before you open those pretty little lips of yours, I damn well know what you've been doin'."

"I don't care," I mutter, my gaze scrutinizing every inch of the room. "And I'm leaving." There's something about this room that doesn't feel right and the boathouse is calling me.

Again I'm forced back into my seat by an adamantium infused, muscle bound and thoroughly pissed of mutant. "Like hell you are." Logan grunts at me darkly and guards the door with his massive frame. "You don't leave the grounds without my say so."

"I wasn't going to leave the grounds." I reply, a shuddering yawn overtaking my body, causing me to slouch in the chair and gaze at the ceiling.

Before he has the chance to respond, the door opens and a furious looking Storm strides in. "Rogue," Her voice is clipped and she places her hands on her hips. The tiredness in her eyes is instantly replaced by a resentment I never knew she possessed. "this is a school and I can only deal with so much. What you did in there was unforgivable and I won't have drugs taken under the Professor's roof."

"'Ro…"

"I'm not finished, Logan." She snaps curtly over her shoulder. I recognise the pain in her eyes as she utters the following sentence, "You're going to have to leave, Rogue."

Turning on her heels, she walks out and I take a fleeting glance at Wolverine, then giggle.

"Don't move from that chair." He growls casting a withering glare at my smile and marching after Storm.

My life really only began when I started using and experimenting with different forms of escape. I'm okay, I'm completely fine and I can leave here, that's fine too. I'll won't deal with it, I'll brush it under the carpet and find something else to kill the pain. But everything is fine, it's all perfectly fine.


End file.
